


The Mills of Manchester

by lysanatt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Amputation, Chef!Severus, Cooking, Disability, First Time, Happy Ending, Hurt!Remus, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Deaths, Mystery/Suspense, Restaurant!AU, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-15
Updated: 2007-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-09 07:44:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3241742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysanatt/pseuds/lysanatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NOTE: The asshat who linked to this fic on GoodReads better take the link down ASAP! Kindly do not link to my works outside fandom spaces. There is amble possibilities to read and download the ebook version here. It is fanfic, it is meant to be enjoyed for free, and it is not meant to be used as link bait on some bookselling/ad-selling site. </p><p>It is a cold and bitter January day when famous chef Severus Snape is sacked from the posh French restaurant he has been managing for almost fifteen years. He discovers there is a world outside—a world where three meals a day is a luxury and life is a struggle to stay alive. Soon Severus finds himself queuing up for a job at the cotton mills, and it is not an entirely pleasant experience. Several people try to interfere with Severus' life, and when Remus Lupin suddenly shows up, Severus' plans take  quite a different turn. Written for Snupin Santa 2007.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mills of Manchester

**Chapter 1: From Feast to Famine**

June in Manchester was just about as grey as January. The clouds hung low and looming, coloured by the particles from the cotton mills' coal-fired generators, leaving dirty, black streaks over the sky. A heavy mist from the steam engines made the air hard to breathe and made the city feel as if it was a particularly plagued tuberculosis patient. But since it actually was January, it didn't matter much that June, July, and even August and September and every other month of the year looked exactly like the others: dull, dirt-coloured months with dull, dirt-coloured streets and people. Sooty walls and sodden streets created the scenery of Severus Snape's world, so very different from the small haven of warmth and luxury and cleanliness he had just left.

Or 'left' was maybe an exaggeration. Severus Snape had been asked to leave, and since he had no friends standing up for him, that was exactly what he had done. He had put down his apron, thrown his tall hat in a corner, grabbed his coat and left Chez Hogwarts, the finest French restaurant in England. He walked out the door, slamming it hard behind him. It wasn't the first time Severus' temper had cost him a job. But it was the first time someone had added the accusations of fraud and theft to the complaints. It had made him extremely angry; not only because it was that fool, Sirius Black, and his little friend, Peter Pettigrew, who had fabricated the accusations, but also because they were false. No matter how temperamental and difficult Severus could be, it had nothing to do with his honesty: he had never stolen anything from anyone, not even when he was young and poor and starving. He had lived on the street for a while, before he was taken in as a cook's boy at Chez Hogwarts.

Chez 'O, as the restaurant usually was called, had been Severus Snape's life for fifteen years; years where he had moved from being a cook's boy, to cook. Finally, and much acclaimed, he had taken over the position as chief cook. It had been a good time, even though Severus had never made friends with any of his colleagues. His employer, Mr Pettigrew, had only seen his usefulness, and Severus' artistic temperament and his ability to immerse himself totally in the creation of even more lush and advanced courses had never left him any particular need to use time on social relationships, either. To say it bluntly: Severus Snape hated the world, and the world was reciprocating the notion.

And all this was the reason Severus Snape now wandered angrily down Canal Street, turned a corner to continue to one of the long, boring streets with terraced houses; all run-down and ragged and poor. He had no money (not much, at least), he had no job, and the only thing he was left with was Sirius bloody Black's malicious grin and the words that had hit Severus harder than he had thought they would. _Well, Snivellus_ , Black had said. _Now we see your true face. Just be happy we didn't find enough proof for the police to care about this; you'd have been down at the station now, on the wrong side of the bars, had we been able to_. Then Black had leaned haughtily against the wall, and the arrogant smile told Severus more than anything who, precisely, had produced the feeble notes which supposedly should prove his guilt. Severus had found it beneath his dignity to justify Black's words with an answer. He had just left, not even able to mourn the loss of the job he loved so much. There had been nothing he could do: neither head waiter Black, nor the little creep Pettigrew would believe him, no matter what he had said—which in itself wasn't surprising since they both knew very well that Severus was innocent.

Severus reached Spinner's End. The street was almost empty at this time of day; the worn-out women were either cleaning or taking care of the extreme amount of annoying children they somehow managed to produce with their equally worn-out husbands. The men... they were at work, getting even more out-worn at the cotton mills. Cotton was what Manchester did, what it was built upon. _Cottonopolis_ , the city had once been called, before good times became bad. The mills were dusty and dangerous and hard work. Severus was glad he had only been forced to work there for a short while, in between getting sacked from one restaurant and the next. He had been fired from the mill too, but that hadn't bothered him the least. Cooking, not cotton, was what Severus Snape lived and breathed for. Until now.

Instead of continuing down the abandoned street to the dead end where the cramped, neglected house he had inherited from his mother lay, he turned left along one of the many canals that cut through Manchester, and didn't stop until he reached the door to The Leaky Cauldron—the pub he used to frequent on rare occasions. This was exactly such a rare occasion. Severus had his last wage in his pocket, and he needed a pint, then a cuppa, to relax and think. Severus was rather sure he was still too angry to produce even a decent cup of tea.

He pushed the door open and stepped into the dark, cramped pub. Tom, the barkeeper, greeted him curtly. It wasn't as if Mr Snape was a popular person anywhere, and as he didn't care to do anything about it—he was either too indifferent or too honest to be other than he was—not many people in his neighbourhood had anything particularly pleasant to say about Severus Snape. He ordered a pint of ale and sat down in a corner, where he used most of the afternoon to vegetate, gloomy and brooding, musing over his cruel fate. He was at a loss what to do; it wasn't as if there were many places left that would have him: his reputation in the restaurant business vastly exceeded the reality. Somehow, and without even having tried, Severus knew he had to find something else, and the mills... no. He couldn't do that. He studied his long fingers; fingers which perfectly measured out a pinch of salt or the right amount of saffron or thyme or basil; hands that carefully caressed a créme for a delicious cake into the right silky consistency... He would ruin them, his hands; ruin his one true calling, his brilliant talent. He could, from the most humble raw materials, almost magically, produce the most delicious delicacies, the most satisfying and artistic main courses... No. Cooking was what Severus did. His life. He would continue to cook, even if he had to leave the city he was born in and loved. Only, he would need money, and apart from the—admittedly—generous last wage he had in his pocket, he had none. 9 pounds and a few shillings in his pocket; fifty pounds hidden away in a jar. That was what Severus had left.

He sat there until the workers from the day shift began to fill the small pub. The twilight had already overtaken the bleak streets, leaving them in a state of darkness and hopelessness that was even worse than the foggy January daylight. Severus turned his empty glass when someone sat down next to him. He looked up, angrily, to ask the intruder to piss off, but Arthur Weasley's tired expression made him swallow the rude words before they were out. Arthur looked as if he had worked three shifts in a row, he probably had. Someone had to feed all his offspring.

'You're not at work?' Arthur asked, as he pulled off his maroon, patched scarf and put it down on the table. 'Something wrong?'

'Do I look like something is wrong?' Severus sneered. He had no intentions of telling anyone, not even Arthur Weasley, what had happened. 'Go away. Don't you have someone to go home to?'

Arthur sighed and nodded. 'Molly's ill again. The chest... Ginny is taking care of her, and I should probably try to make dinner for the rest of the pack. Sometimes I wonder why we had to be-', Arthur coughed lightly, '-blessed with so many children.'

'If you do not know the mechanics, I'll explain them to you. Abstinence, man. She's not pregnant again, is she?'

'Ginny? Are you insane-'

'Molly. The woman you are married to, if you've forgotten.' Severus shook his head and rolled his eyes.

'Oh. I thought...'

'Arthur,' Severus said, 'go home. Go home and get that daughter of yours to make your wife some hot tea and a decent stew.'

'Erm-' Arthur said. 'I can't. She is looking after the twins and doing the laundry. She has enough to do.' Arthur lit up in a wide smile that altered his tired expression. 'I can cook potatoes!' he exclaimed, boyishly happy.

'Yes. You can. Because I taught you last time you tried to burn the water they were supposed to be in. And she should have something nourishing, not just the potatoes.'

'So now you're the doctor?' Arthur stood. 'If you're so clever, why don't you cook her something? You look as if you have begin to feel attached to your seat anyway, so maybe you should try to get up and do something. Why are you not at work this time of day?'

Severus glared, annoyed at the tired man in front of him. 'What I do with my time is none of your business.' The man really had some nerve! 'Why would I care what you eat?' He paused. Severus had indeed eaten more than his share of Molly's delicious food, food not even an _haute cuisine_ chef could criticize. Severus decided he didn't care one whit about the Weasleys, but somehow his conscience bugged him a bit. 'All right then.' He rose from the table as well. 'Get me what you have, and I'll feed your annoying children and your helpless wife and yourself. I knew it was a mistake to make your acquaintance, Weasley.' Angrily, Severus strode out of The Leaky, with Arthur Weasley in tow, heading in the direction of Spinner's End.

 

 

Severus poured two pints of milk over the potatoes and stirred slowly. He put on the lid and made sure the cooker wasn't too hot. He felt better. Cooking always made him relax. Even if the poor ingredients Arthur had brought him wouldn't make an interesting dish, Severus had done his best. He realised he was terribly spoiled; there was a deep gap between having a nice salary as a chief cook and being a mill worker and the father of seven hungry brats. Severus swore he'd never have any children, something that was easily remedied since he had no spouse, and definitely no intentions to get one. He liked women—or rather he didn't dislike women more than he disliked men—he just didn't want them _that_ way.

As a delicious smell of curry spread in his kitchen, he realised it would probably be a question of time before he was one of them: a hungry, under-paid mill worker. He'd have to be careful with his money, or he'd be eating old sausages and mouldy potatoes soon. For a while he sat in deep thought at the rickety kitchen table, only getting up to stir the pot once in a while. He waited until the potatoes had simmered long enough to thicken the curry sauce before he pulled the pot off the cooker. He took a bit of dry bread he had left in a cupboard and cut it into slices. He found a pan, put on a lump of butter and turned the bread a few times until it was crisp and golden. Severus looked at his rather vast collection of spices and took down the cinnamon jar. He gave each slice a pinch before he put them on a plate. He put the plate on top of the pot, and carefully carried the food out of his kitchen, out of the house and across the street to the Weasleys' house.

'That smells divine.' A soft voice crept out of the darkness, and made Severus, who had been banging on the door with an elbow, turn to look at the source. The dim street light that only barely chased away the winter's impenetrable velvet cast a soft golden light on a tall, thin man with greying hair. 'For Molly, I suppose?'

'What? You have sunk so low as to beg strangers for food now, Lupin?' Severus' voice was as icy as the crisp winter's cold. Remus Lupin... everything he detested. A weak character, always out to roll on his back for everyone, puppy-eyed and submissive. Severus snorted. He had no intention on wasting his time, not even a second, on people like Lupin.

Lupin looked as if he was a mongrel somebody had just kicked hard in the ribs. 'No, Severus. I just... it was just a praise of your culinary talent. I didn't want to offend you.'

'Your presence is an offence. Why don't you go get some scraps over at the 'O? I am certain your little friend, Sirius Black, is willing to share with you.'

Golden eyes turned even more sad. 'I can't see what I have done to irritate you so, but unfortunately I have an errand inside, so you have to endure my company for a little longer,' said Remus. 'Let me knock. I am not sure they can hear it like that.'

'It is not as much you, as the company you keep.' Severus looked disgusted. There was a rumour Lupin and Black had been friends. As in _friends_. It was nothing anyone ever spoke of in Spinner's End. No one wanted to attract the attention of the police for any reason, not even when someone broke the laws by having an unnatural connection with another man. The life at the mills was nothing compared to prison and no matter what, people in their street looked out for each other. Even Severus Snape.

'Aren't you a bit unfair now? I know you don't like Sirius much, but what has he ever done to you?'

'Apart from accusing me of fraud and making sure I got fired today?' Severus' eyes where burning with hate for Sirius Black. 'Nice _friends_ you keep, Lupin.' Severus turned around. Luckily the youngest of the Weasley boys finally had managed to get to the door, and Severus strode inside, ignoring Remus Lupin as if he was a particularly ugly, but harmless bug.

If he had turned around, he would have seen a stricken expression on Lupin's face.

 

 

'Oh, Severus! It is perfect!' Molly Weasley's pale face had once more gained colour and a slight sheen of sweat covered her brow. 'What have you used?' Molly took another spoonful and bit of a corner of her second slice of cinnamon toast.

'Only what Arthur brought me;' Severus said, 'potatoes, milk, sausages, onions. A bit of curry and butter and cinnamon for the toast. Just ordinary things. Not so much to it.'

'Sounds easy enough,' Arthur said. 'I didn't think you cared to cook ordinary meals, Severus.'

'There is no such thing as an ordinary meal. If a course is properly made it will always be outstanding. It is just English tradition that makes food dull. Overcooked and under-salted. Awful. Afraid of spices and salt and... taste.' Severus huffed haughtily. 'A bad cook can make everything taste bad, a good cook the contrary. Your wife's a good example. Molly knows how not to ruin things. If only she had a bit more imaginative talent, she'd have made a great chef.'

'So you are saying that no matter what kind of raw materials you get, you can make something nice out of it?' Arthur sounded a bit disbelieving.

'Precious, coming from a man who thinks his children are fed properly on bread and margarine and jam.' Severus' temper was flaring. He _knew_ he was able to make anything taste good.

'Dare take a bet?' Arthur asked, grinning. Severus' temper was famous, but usually he kept it in a tight lead when Molly was present. 'You cook yet another meal for Molly, and we-' he pointed at Molly and Lupin, '-get to choose the ingredients for it.'

'That would probably be practical,' Remus interrupted, and put down his plate. 'I never got to give Arthur the message I came to deliver. Mr Dumbledore would like us to do double shifts tomorrow, so... if you are unemployed...' Remus seemed to remember that Severus actually didn't have a job to return to; not tomorrow, not at all. 'I'm sorry, Severus. That was not mine to tell.'

'Well, thank you, Lupin. I am so delighted you are willing to inform my neighbours of my personal affairs.' Severus' eyes glittered dangerously as he slowly rose from the old chair he had lounged in while Molly ate. It smelled like cabbage and coal, like almost any house in the street.

'Your job?' Molly coughed and sat up. 'Severus, why didn't you say so?' Molly turned to Arthur. 'Love, will you please pay Severus for the meal? At least a shilling.'

'No,' Severus sneered. 'I am not for sale.'

'You have to make a living, don't you?' Molly said softly. 'At least earn a little until you can find another restaurant that'll want y-' Molly managed to stop herself before the sentence was finished. They all knew no one would want to offer Severus a job, not with his reputation. 'If you cook for us tomorrow, Arthur can take an extra shift, and we'll earn from it too. Please, Severus? I feel better already, from the delicious meal...'

Severus knew it was a lost case. Molly always got her way. He shook his head, but said nothing. Somehow he knew Molly was right. He had no job, no money, no friends and being on the dole was not something he would rely on, even if he knew he could live from it for a while, even if poorly. His pride wouldn't allow him to. There was no way he would become a beggar—only he would have to if he didn't come up with a brilliant idea soon. He didn't say anything, just took the pot he had brought, found his coat and left.

Someone followed him out the door. Lupin.

'Goodnight, Severus. It was a wonderful meal,' Remus said quietly.

'I didn't cook it for _you_ ,' Severus growled. 'Now, go away, Lupin.'

'I am on my way home, Severus. I really cannot go any other way.' There was a disappointed sadness in Lupin's voice.

Severus stopped, and turned to Lupin. His expression was angry, his eyes flared, matching the dancing flames of the gas lamps in the street. 'Piss off,' he said, making it sound like a threat. 'I don't care. I suppose you are only here to enjoy your and your lover's triumph. Finally he managed to get me kicked out from the 'O, did Sirius Black! So are you going back to his bed now, to tell him how much it disturbs me?' Somehow, deep down, Severus knew Remus wouldn't. Somehow Remus Lupin wasn't like that. But Severus' anger clouded his judgment, and all the pent up feelings wanted out. He stepped up close to the taller man. 'Now how would you feel if your sleazy little affair with Sirius the sodomite were to come to the authorities' attention? Maybe a few years in jail for buggery could take your both down a notch?'

Lupin took a step back as if someone had hit him. 'Severus... you... please? I had nothing to do with this, I swear. Sirius... he... I don't believe-'

'You don't? Well, how can you explain, then, that it was Pettigrew and Black who had forged the documents they accused me of having falsified? But they were always your little friends, and obviously your only chance to get laid. It is disgusting. People like you, Lupin...' Severus hesitated. There was light in some of the windows, and no matter he disliked Lupin, he hadn't meant anyone to overhear him accusing Lupin of being a homosexual. No matter his shortcomings, Severus would not be the reason Lupin ended in jail; he had enough trouble as it was. They both had. Lupin had difficulties doing the piecework to Mr Dumbledore's expectations. Severus was unemployed. Maybe he had gone a bit too far. Lupin wasn't the type to join Black's scheming. But there was no way Severus would apologise to Remus Lupin. Ever.

'Bugger off,' he told Lupin again and strode quickly over the street to his own small, dark house.

 

Severus Snape didn't sleep very well that night.

**Chapter 2: An Unexpected Proposal**

The calm Sunday afternoon, with its heavy sky and the streets mercifully free of screaming children, did nothing to relieve Severus' annoyance. He was once more cooking for the Weasley family and he couldn't really decide if it relieved him to do what he did best, or if it annoyed him to no end, being at the red-haired menaces' beck and call. He had of course won the bet with Arthur, having made baked apples with a filling of beans, basil and minced lamb with a hot chilli sauce for Molly, something that had once more brought colour and warmth into her face. Distractedly, he mixed the remains of the Weasleys' Saturday night dinner with grated cheese and Macaroni before he poured it into a crust-lined mould. The kitchen smelled vaguely of the onions he had just chopped and fried to sprinkle over the meat and filling.

He was considering if coriander and chili would benefit the course (and Molly, since hot spices seemed to help her chest pain), letting his hand hover over the jar that contained his own mix of herbs and spices for curry, when a knocking on the door disturbed him. He sighed. Ever since he had stopped working at Chez 'O, his home had been akin to a central railway station. If it wasn't one thing, it was another, and at least three other families had already dared show up and asked if Severus would please consider cooking for them, since they might be able to do more hours at the mill, in that case. He had accepted, reluctantly. He had already earned ten shillings doing what he loved, if only he didn't have to put up with all the people... If Severus had to be honest, he found it challenging to make delicious dishes out of the poor food one could buy on a spinner's wage. It was very different from the luxury of being able to use caviar, salmon and the most tender veal and exotic spices and fruits. At Chez 'O, asking for the price of a course was... unheard of.

He put down the jar, dried his hands in a tea towel and went to open the door.

'Severus.' Remus smiled kindly.

'Lupin. I thought I made it quite clear I take no pleasure in your company.' How dare the fool show up here? Severus felt even more irritated. Lupin was just like a cat. Cats had a habit of throwing themselves at people who had no interest in cats. Very inconvenient! Severus huffed. At least Lupin didn't shed hair all over the place. That was a cold comfort and Severus glared menacingly at his unwelcome guest. 'Why are you still here? Go away.'

'I had hoped maybe you'd ask me inside for a cuppa. It's tea time,' Remus said, merrily. 'And I have an idea.'

The man was hopeless, Severus decided. He had really tried in a diplomatic way—and a few not so diplomatic—to let Remus Lupin understand that he, Severus, had absolutely no urge to spend as much as a minute more than necessary in the company of the man. He disliked the calm attitude, he disliked that it was impossible to make Lupin snap, he disliked that Lupin was so sodding... submissive. He seemed to form and transform depending on the company he held, and Severus disliked that too. No, actually, he more than disliked it. He _hated_ it. Lupin was weak and spineless, and he made Severus think of the boiled Macaroni he had just put into the meat-and-Macaroni-pie. Without spice and hotness and colour, Remus Lupin was nothing a but doughy, unfinished character; Severus' opposite. But Remus Lupin had an idea. _Of course_ Severus had to let the idiot in, then. 'Alright. Come in.' Severus realised Lupin was probably too ignorant to understand a rejection. There was no way around it. Lupin had an idea, so the whole street was obviously forced to listen to it. Severus looked even more sour, but opened the door and let Lupin into his house.

 

 

'So,' Severus said and put a cup in front of Lupin, 'out with it. I haven't got all day.'

'Have you found work yet?' Lupin asked, turning the empty tea cup distractedly. 'Or have you decided to work at the mill? Dumbledore needs more men. We're already working too many hours as it is.'

'I am amazed. Your brilliance makes me unable to speak.' Severus glared at Lupin. 'Is that your idea; me, working for Dumledore? Because if it is, I can save the tea for another time. Or for someone I care to have over for tea.'

Lupin looked up. There was a pain-filled uncertainty in his eyes. Severus wasn't sure it felt as good as he had hoped but Lupin was far too concerned with what people thought of him. Severus would never have shown his feelings that blatantly.

'No. I... I just asked to be polite.'

'Ah. In the future, please refrain from that.' Severus had never been interested in politeness.

'You have been cooking for some of the families this week, haven't you?' Lupin reached for the jar of curry powder, opened it and smiled at the strong, delicious scent. 'Your own mix, I suppose?'

'Yes.' Severus didn't volunteer any information. He poured milk in Lupin's cup, then took the teapot from the nearby kitchen table. A wonderful smell of bergamotte and jasmin spread in the kitchen as he poured for his guest. Pouring tea for himself, he wondered why Lupin was so interested in his plans. He placed the teapot on the table, between them, and placed a rose-and-daisies-embroidered tea cosy on top of it. Lupin looked at the cosy, clearly trying not to laugh.

'My mother made it,' Severus growled. 'I don't see any need to replace a perfectly working household item with another, of poorer quality.'

'No, no of course not.' Lupin could barely keep the laughter out of his voice. 'I had this idea,' he said, changing the subject. 'If you are cooking for a few families already-' Lupin made it sound like a question, '-and I happen to know more might be interested-'

'Go on.' Severus suddenly discovered some interest in what Lupin had to say.

'-then cooking for ten, or twenty... it wouldn't be that more difficult, would it? And if everybody could agree to eat the same thing... maybe it could save you some time?'

Severus just raised an eyebrow. The man had a point. 'And this might help them, how?'

'They'll all have more time to work. They'll earn more than they'll spend. Their children will get fed and probably a bit more nutritionally correct. You'll save lives this way, Severus,' Lupin said, grinning, and with a dramatic gesture, 'or at least stop some of the families feeding their children white bread and margarine for dinner.'

Severus had forgotten his tea. He looked at Lupin in quite another light. 'And your suggestion is?'

'You have the knowledge; you know the wholesalers and how to run things in a kitchen. I am not saying you are going to get rich, but it... if you are not going to Dumbledo-'

'I'm not,' Severus interrupted. 'Can't stand the man. He's a habitué at the 'O. Black's and Potter's godfather, as you very well know. No chance I am going to work at his sodding mill!' He was quiet for a little. Lupin had really thought this through, surprisingly enough. It wasn't even a half-bad idea; it was a good idea. Severus didn't want to lower himself to cook for the workers; he used to cook for the créme amongst connoisseurs. Only Severus got the nagging feeling it could be a challenge. It was something he hadn't tried before; making good food for people who couldn't really afford it. Maybe he could even make them understand that food was important, not only to stay alive, but to _live_. Taste and smell had seduced emperors and kings, had lured beautiful women—or beautiful men—to bed. A meal well done was a seduction of senses, of people and Severus knew that. Maybe that was why he was a cold, reserved man: he was pouring all his feelings into the food he was creating; making it special, extraordinary. What he made was art, and now Remus Lupin asked him to waste the exquisite creation of a perfect soufflé or a velvet-soft sauce on people who didn't know butter from margarine.

Severus shook his head, almost in denial. Slowly, he found his cup and took a large drink. 'I suppose you suggest I use my kitchen and my house for this little venture?' Somehow, Severus knew this was a lost battle already, and that Remus Lupin had won him over by tempting him with a challenge. Severus would not let his pride get hurt. He could do this. He would teach them art, he would win them over through their famined, ignorant little stomachs and leave them in awe of what he could create from the most common products.

Lupin smiled, a wide, open, happy smile. Severus couldn't remember if he had ever seen Lupin smile like that. The smile lit up the man's face, changing the serious and worn-out look. Lupin looked much younger, Severus thought, not exactly appalled by the smile sent at him.

'No, I can understand why you wouldn't like to work for Mr Dumbledore. He's a strict man, I suppose he likes his workers a bit more...' Lupin's voice trailed off, as if he knew he could get in trouble if he continued the sentence. Instead, he seemed to think of something else. 'You own the house, don't you?' Lupin asked. 'So, if some of us found a few old tables and stools you could actually serve people here? You wouldn't have to waste time on deliveries. Maybe take the room next door and let people either fetch their food there, or even eat in, maybe charge a little extra for that?'

Severus nodded slowly. 'Yes... I do own the house. And as I am usually known as an accommodating man, I am certain all my ten customers would cherish my company while they eat their potatoes.' He was growling at Lupin, he knew that. The idea was intolerable, of course, but Lupin had a point.

'Can't you just rest calmly in the knowledge they are paying your taxes and your food and your heating?' Lupin asked. 'Sirius sa-'

Severus' expression darkened. 'Do _not_ mention that name in my house, Lupin. I do not care about what Sirius Black says. Next time I care to hear his name is when someone tells me where to send the flowers for his funeral. Hopefully it will be soon.'

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean-'

Severus cut Lupin off again. 'You never mean to anything. You are a pathetic doormat, without any independent thought in your mind. It was the same when we were at school together; all the time you were trailing after Black and Potter, never making them stop whatever mischief they were up to.' Severus' face contracted in disgust. 'Their little slave, all that time, their slave! Never stopped, did it? Did Black demand you should come to his bed? I bet he did. And you obeyed, of course. Was it he who asked you to lure me into this? To ruin myself further?' Severus looked like a thundercloud.

Lupin looked as if he had been hit. 'I didn't know you could contain that much venom, Severus. Do you feel a particular pleasure by putting other people down—especially those who are trying to help you—or are you just born that way? I really hope for the last, since it may in some way give you an excuse for your behaviour.' Lupin pushed his cup aside and stood, shoving his chair back with a—for Lupin—surprisingly violent movement. He leaned forward, hands on the old oak table.

Severus involuntarily moved back a little. There was a fire in Lupin's eyes he hadn't seen before, a glitter of gold, a flicker of a burning furnace, something that made the man look almost feral.

'Don't ever talk to me like that again, Severus Snape, or I will make you regret it.' Lupin's voice was silken-soft, but there was a strange air of calm determination in it. Their faces were so close together that Severus could just have reached out and touched Lupin. 'You don't know me or know what I am, because you never bothered to find out. If you for once tried to look at the world around you, really look at it, it might not be exactly what you have decided it may be.'

Severus couldn't reply. He had the feeling the Lupin he had known and despised for so long was slipping away; that the weak, pliant man he had seen was nothing but a mask. Underneath it was another Lupin: this odd creature, exuding the power and force of a predator, a tiger or a wolf or at least something with teeth and claws and wilderness buried in its heart. For a few seconds, their eyes locked, golden with black. Severus was the first to look away. He knew he had gone too far, otherwise Lupin would never have behaved in such a fashion or shown that unknown side of himself. But there was nothing in the world that could make Severus apologise. Ever. He wanted to tell Lupin to piss off, but there were no words. They seemed to have stuck in his throat, the same way as the look in Lupin's eyes would stick in his mind for the days to come.

Lupin just turned around and walked out of the kitchen, out of Severus' house. He didn't even having the decency to slam the front door hard when he left.

 

 

In the following days Severus stubbornly walked the streets of Manchester, looking for work, only to be reminded he already had a reputation, and not a good one. 'We have no position for you at the moment, Mr Snape' was what he had heard over and over, in every restaurant, café or pub he inquired in. Even those who had advertised 'cook wanted' had mysteriously hired someone else in the time it had taken Severus to read the sign, walk in and ask for the position.

After a week, he was almost ready to give up, but there was no way he would let Remus Lupin win. Even working at the mill for Mr Dumbledore looked better than actually turning his house into anything Lupin had suggested. That Severus was behaving childishly never occurred to him. He just kept seeing the dangerously glittering eyes in front of him. Hell, he had even dreamt of them at night—an extremely disturbing dream of him being hunted by a wolfishly grinning Lupin. No, Severus had decided, he would not have anything to do with that man. Someone who kept a side of himself hidden so deeply was a danger. Rather Dumbledore than submitting to Remus Lupin's wishes.

And as Severus never did anything halfway, his steps—heavily, admitted—turned in the direction of Dumbledore Cotton Mill.

He sat in the front office for half an hour, turning his mittens around his fingers since there was nothing else to do but to stare at the vomit-yellow, scratched paint on the wall and listen to the distant clack-clack of the typewriter in a nearby office. Even in here, the air was heavy with little cotton lint particles. There was a slight layer of dust on the desk by the wall and on the bookcases that held heavy account books. No one seemed to bother to come talk to him. The clock on the wall moved slowly, showing exactly how much time Severus wasted there. The coal-fired stove in the corner sent out a pleasant warmth—the only reason he hadn't yet closed his black coat, put on his woolly hat and walked out on the winter-cold streets, hunting for someone willing to employ the notorious Severus Snape.

Finally, it was too much. Severus glared angrily at the office door with its matted glass pane, and at the inverse letters spelling out _James Potter_ silhouetted against the thick glass. There were several reasons Severus didn't want to work at the mill, and James Potter was one of them. Potter had been a bully at school, he was best friends with Black, both of them Dumbledore's godsons, since he had no children himself. Oh, there were reasons enough for Severus to not be here. Maybe there was another, better mill where Severus could find a job? The cotton mills were plenty, but Mr Dumbledore's had the newest machines; they were remotely safer than those of the older mills.

Severus picked at a thread that threatened to pull loose and make a hole in the mitten. Molly had made them for him, a gift for last Christmas. Molly and Arthur were the closest he had ever been to having friends, he realised. He'd had a few at school, but Evan had died when he was caught in the loom over at the Sedgewick Mill, Wilkes wasted away after having been ill for a while—tuberculosis, of course. Life expectancy when one was connected to the Manchester Mills was not really impressive. Either the loom or the lungs usually killed people far too early.

Somehow, Severus thought, it was a good thing he was sitting here, without anything to do but think. His hour-long musing had slowly uncovered a few things he hadn't understood before: most important of all there was no way he could stay here, apply for work, and still keep his pride intact. He had never bowed down to Potter's and Black's superiority in school, and he didn't want to now. He would not ask James Potter for a favour. No matter what he did, his pride would be scratched, hurt, kicked and tainted. There was no way around it. Discarding the mill work diminished his choices, though. He was left with the alternative: to go home, cook for the workers, earn a little—and maybe even a bit more than he could earn at the mill—and for once do some good. Severus hated children, he hated his neighbours and he hated people just for the principle of it, but he wasn't blind. He had seen how Molly's chest pains got worse, how the Weasley twins were hollow-eyed and pale, how Ginny Weasley lost her spring-like young beauty, slaving to keep the family together. Just like all the other children in the street, younger or older. Just like their parents.

Maybe he could do a little, making certain some of them got at least one proper meal a day, and still manage to work with something he liked. It had been a challenge to make decent food out of nothing and a few spices. So... what if he decided to turn into Severus Snape, the benefactor? He raised an eyebrow at himself. He was no humanitarian, and he would never be. Only, he would like the work, and at least it would be marginally better than anything else he had left to try.

There was just one tiny, minor, minute, utterly insurmountable problem: how the hell was he going to ask Remus _sodding_ Lupin to help him to turn his living room into a civic restaurant? Oh Lord, his pride would never survive that without being mortally wounded! Severus sat in deep thoughts for a while, distractedly kicking with his boot heel at the scratched chair leg.

Enough! Severus stood, pulled his mittens on, dragged the knitted hat over his head and turned to leave. As he was reaching for the doorknob, someone opened the door from the outside.

'Well, _Snivellus_... what an honour.' James Potter's malicious grin showed exactly how pleased he was to see Severus. 'And I suppose you are here to beg me offer you employment. As if it-'

'Actually, Potter, I'd rather have my head ripped off in the machinery. Or maybe follow the example of Socrates and prepare a delicious drink of hemlock to avoid your rather unpleasant company. Or better: prepare one for you? Maybe even ask you to share it with your good friends?' Severus' voice was low and purring. He smiled, precisely as maliciously as Potter had done. 'Good day, Potter.' Severus strode out of Potter's office, turning in the doorway. 'Give my regards to your uncle Albus. I'll give yours to Remus, then.'

Severus had just found the perfect reason for any future contact with Remus Lupin. It struck him the moment he set eyes on Potter's annoying face: it would drive Lupin's friends insane if Lupin did anything nice for Severus. He felt satisfied for the first time in weeks. Life was looking brighter—or at least as bright as possible when heavy, acid-filled, foggy January-skies loomed over his city. He would take Remus Lupin away from his friends, and see to it revenge was taken, enjoyed and preferably flaunted in front of Black and Potter. Oh, life was indeed looking better.

**Chapter 3: A Conversation About Food**

It was late, but not too late, when Severus returned to his cluttered old house. He fumbled with the keys and three large bags filled to the brim with various vegetables he had been able to get for a very reasonable price at the market. Tomorrow, he would make a wonderful soup; he had pounds of onions, he had cheddar cheese and a very nice piece of lamb for some stew. He managed to get inside in the dark corridor without dropping anything, and soon he had everything put in its place. The vegetables in the larder, and the meat stored away in the nice ice box he had installed while he was still a celebrated and well-paid cook in a reputable restaurant.

Severus stoked the fire in the cooker, and put water over for some tea. He looked at the kettle for a while, then pulled it away from the fire. He could just as well get it over with. He grabbed his coat, buried himself in a long scarf, and pulled on his gloves before he closed the door and walked across the street and a few houses down to the building—exactly like the one Severus lived in—where Lupin rented a room on the second floor. Not that Severus had ever visited the man, but everybody knew each other at Spinner's End.

Reluctantly, he knocked at the door, his back to the street.

'Are you looking for someone?'

Severus turned at the sound of the hated voice. He paused, needing a moment to school his expression. 'Yes. I am.'

'And who might that be?' Lupin asked, shoulders hunched against the wind. 'I didn't know you had any social relations with my landlord.'

'You are terribly curious. Do you usually snoop into other people's business?' Severus sneered, entirely forgetting both that he had decided to be nice (or as nice as possible) to Lupin, and that he had actually been looking for the man.

'I was just asking,' Lupin said calmly. 'I wasn't trying to offend you.'

'Good,' Severus said. 'Then shut up and come over to my house.' Severus clenched his fists tightly. He had to ask... he had to! 'Please, Lupin. I need your advice.'

Lupin hesitated, as if he wasn't certain what to do. 'What do you want from me, Severus? I think you made it quite clear last time that my company wasn't to your liking.' Lupin looked thin and helpless in his patched, ragged coat, worn thin by too much poverty and too many years.

Severus managed to keep his famous temper reined. He needed Remus Lupin's help, and he had no intentions of making Lupin angry again; the one glimpse at the unrestrained ferocity Lupin held, kept Severus calm. Pissing Lupin off would not get Severus the help and the revenge Lupin's cooperation would provide. 'Can't we discuss that when we're inside?' Severus said. 'It is sodding cold, and I have tea and scones, which seems to be better than freezing our bollocks off out here.'

'An invitation for tea? Severus, I am surprised! Lead the way.'

Severus couldn't stop himself from shaking his head. If it was at Lupin or at his own almost irrational change, he had no idea.

 

 

For the second time in a few weeks, Severus had Lupin seated at the old kitchen table with a steaming cup of Earl Grey in front of him. Severus fetched a tray with scones and little bowls with clotted cream, jam and honey, and put it down on the table. Lupin almost reluctantly took a scone when Severus offered him the plate. 'Now, will you please tell me what this is all about, Severus?' Lupin asked. 'I didn't exactly leave with the idea we were to be bosom friends last time.'

'Erm-' Severus said. He imagined his already torn pride fluttering out the window, hurt and with broken wings. 'Erm.'

'Eloquent. But maybe not so telling.' Lupin's eyes glittered with amusement. Severus glared at him, and the flash of gold and mirth disappeared. 'I know we don't get along too well. But if you wouldn't mind letting me in on why you need my assistance... It might further our future conversation quite a bit.'

Severus needed to get it over with. He breathed in deep, entertaining the thought that he was throttling Lupin instead of apologising to him. 'I may have been somewhat harsh when you were last here. I am...' Severus coughed. 'I am...'

'That's alright, Severus. I could have been kinder as well.' Lupin even looked honest when he was smoothing things out between them.

Severus was certain that if Lupin had been any kinder, he'd turned into a stuffed toy dog. He let it slide. He couldn't afford to alienate Lupin again and he hated it. He hated depending on other people, and especially when 'other people' was Remus Lupin. Again, he reminded himself how angry it would make Black and Potter, if Lupin had helped him earn a living. That pretty picture had to be imprinted on his mind, or he would surely do something nasty to Lupin sooner or later. 'Alright,' Severus repeated, looking sour. The worst was over. He had sort of apologised, and it hadn't caused him that much pain.

'You wanted me to...' Lupin pulled the tea cosy off the teapot and poured more tea for himself.

'I have thought about it,' Severus said, watching Lupin serve tea and butter a scone. 'I might like to make a small bistro... a civic restaurant, almost, with cheap food and plenty of it. But better than what one can have at the pub... something the workers can afford.' Severus looked down into his half-full teacup. It sounded almost as if he cared about people. He hadn't meant it that way. 'I want to earn a living. But I am not going to serve that awful muck people usually eat. It might not be a gourmet restaurant, but I still want people to enjoy and understand that even the most simple meal can be a small taste of art. To experience a moment of deep pleasure by tasting something unexpected and perfect, even if it is nothing but a potato, prepared in an unusual way, or a tiny bit of beef, marinated for days in spices from faraway countries.'

'Severus... I didn't know you had so much poetry in you.' Lupin smiled. 'If you are not careful, one might think you even have feelings.'

'I do not! Poetry has nothing to do with it. It is purely a question of good craftsmanship.'

'Oh, but didn't you say last time that cooking was an art form? Why should it be different from a pretty painting or poem? They can be fulfilling and satisfying as well. _Man doth not live by bread only, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord doth man live_ , isn't that what the Bible said?'

'I doubt very much that my food is to be compared to a religious experience, thank you very much. And poetry is for foppets and...'

'Is it really? You haven't been reading much have you, Severus? There is poetry for all of us. Just like food, something for all tastes.' Lupin leaned back in his chair. 'Even poetry about food.'

'Have you finally damaged your brain in the loom? Or sniffed too much lint?' Severus looked at Lupin a bit surprised. 'Are we having a conversation?'

Lupin smiled. It was that open smile that once had made Severus heart beat faster. 'A conversation? You and I? No, of course not.' The smile widened, white and sharp and dangerous. ' _But man is a carnivorous production_ ', Lupin suddenly recited, ' _And must have meals—at least once a day; He cannot live, like woodcocks, upon suction, But, like the shark and tiger, must have prey._ ' Lupin grinned, took a scone and bit it, almost tearing the bite off. He chewed and sank. 'Lord Byron wrote it.'

'As I said,' Severus declared. 'Poetry is for foppets. Byron was one.'

'My, my. You are a learned man after all? You surprise me, Severus. Have been reading Byron in your spare time, have you?'

'Not likely. I have no time for such foolishness.'

'So instead you create poetry to eat?'

'If you insist.' Severus rolled his eyes. He knew how good he was in a kitchen, and he would not deny his talent made him create little pieces of perfect art. But poetry? That was a bit much. 'I cannot see how words on a piece of paper can substitute sauce on a plate,' he said.

'Feelings, Severus. The ability to make the devourer of poetry or of a perfect course sigh in pleasure or surprise. That way words can feed the brain, nurture it, just as food nurtures your body. Have you never closed your eyes in ecstasy by the feeling of a velvet sauce sliding over your palate?'

'Yes...' Severus watched Lupin closely. The passionate look on Lupin's face coloured the pale cheeks and made him look very much alive, almost handsome.

'That is how it feels to read a beautiful poem; it is just another kind of sauce. Poetry makes people feel. Just like your food does, otherwise you wouldn't have been so famous. You just write poetry with the adding of thyme, or the way you sprinkle tarragon over a particularly fine piece of lamb.'

'But there will be no more poetry now.' Severus' former sour attitude returned. 'And there is a difference between famous and notorious. No matter how famous I was, your little friends' lies have managed to ensure that I can never work in a decent restaurant again.' Severus sighed deeply. He was close to giving up. Actually, he didn't really know what to do if Lupin wouldn't help him.

The light in Lupin's eyes seemed to disappear. 'I am truly sorry, Severus. If it helps, I don't believe them. Sirius can be like that sometimes... cruel. I...' Lupin paused. 'I know we have had our differences, but I trust you.' He nodded. 'I trust you.'

Severus considered if Lupin really had lost his mind. How could he trust him? On the other hand, Severus knew he had always been an honest man, if not in any way pleasant. He didn't say anything. There wasn't anything to say.

Lupin seemed to accept Severus' silence. 'Now tell me how I can help you,' he said quietly. 'I will do what I can.'

Severus bit back a scathing remark. If Lupin could try to be friendly, so could Severus. 'I need to turn my house into a proper location for serving maybe... thirty, forty people at a time. You suggested something about tables and stools, last time?'

Soon after, Severus had fetched paper and pencils, and Lupin had moved his chair to the side where Severus sat. It was late before Lupin walked over the street to his tiny room, and the kitchen table was covered with drawings, plans and estimates. As Severus went to bed in his cold bedroom, he fell asleep quickly, for the first time in weeks happy with what he had managed to accomplish.

 

 

The next weeks, Severus' old house slowly changed into its new function. First, Lupin managed to find some old tables and chairs that all were more likely to end their life inside a stove than as furniture in a small bistro. Lupin had asked Charlie and Bill Weasley to drop by to try out some of Severus' experiments, and during a few Sundays (since they all had to work at the mill on week-days) they managed to make the old, battered furniture usable. Someone, Severus had no idea who, had donated paint, and Granny Longbottom had terrorised someone over at the Sedgewick Mill to let her have some of the cotton fabric that wasn't high enough quality to be sold.

The families Severus already cooked for had come over on a Wednesday evening, and had torn down the walls between the kitchen and the living room. The Weasley twins and some of their friends had come arrived the following day and sloshed distemper all over the place and themselves. Severus had just sighed, and was glad he had bought enough paint for several houses. The fact that people came to help for the price of a decent meal (sometimes spiced with a bit of persuasion from Lupin) made it possible for Severus not to lose his temper; that was his odd branch of gratitude. He just disappeared into the basement, where he was setting up a new and larger kitchen with a nice larder, room for the ice box and a store room for vegetables and potatoes. He stayed there until he was able to manage other people without sneering at them.

As January became February and the winter became harder, the small house was like an early spring flower: fresh and colourful and _alive_. The tiny bistro now had white-painted tables with equally white tablecloths and white napkins. The chairs had soft pillows upholstered by Molly and Ginny. The cushions had a nice dark green pattern (practical when people came directly from the Mills) and green-painted panels. Argus Filch ('This guy really knows his way around taps and water and pipes', Remus had said) had installed running water and a drain in the basement. He managed to install even gas pipes, and helped Severus build a small lift to transport food and plates and pots from the basement kitchen to the bistro.

When Severus opened the bistro for business, five of the families living at Spinner's End had come over to dine before the first week was over. The next there were ten. Severus had decided to make only two courses a day—soup and a proper dinner—to make things as simple and cheap as possible. He found out he actually enjoyed the challenge, and it pleased him to know each shilling he earned was his and his only. He liked to get up early and visit the market to find the best bargain, planning how he could stretch things in the best possible way, and still make interesting and deliciously tasting meals.

When February passed and became March, the small restaurant was filled to the brim every lunch and dinner. Only on Mondays, where Severus had decided he wanted to have the day off, the house was quiet and dark. Remus Lupin continued to visit, helping where he could, if there was something non-cooking-related that needed attention. Severus had been too busy to really pay attention to Lupin, and somehow, along the road, he had forgotten he had only needed Lupin there to annoy Black and Potter. Lupin never stayed for long, and he was always gone when Severus cleaned the kitchen and made sure everything was ready for next day's work, as if he understood he wasn't welcome except when he was useful.

However, Severus had to admit to himself that Lupin had indeed been more than useful. He was sure he couldn't have created his small restaurant without Lupin's help. People didn't mind helping Severus Snape when Lupin asked them kindly, smiling that sweet smile of his, and adding a few kind words. Severus regarded Lupin with a tinge of jealousy. He did, since he was a clever man, realise what kindness and diplomatic behaviour could accomplish—only he knew he was not cut out to move smoothly through life. He didn't even want to try.

March became April and the spring wind cleared the sooty Manchester sky for some time. There was a scent of flowers and warmth in the air, a scent of something new, slowly approaching. For the first time, Severus had to go to the bank with a rather nice amount of money—he hadn't used all he had earned to buy raw materials on the market. It was a nice feeling, and Severus allowed himself to cherish the sun and the spring and the safety it was to have a little money hidden away.

Of course it didn't last. That was how it always was with Severus Snape.

 

 

**Chapter 4: In Sickness and in... the Kitchen**

 

Severus hadn't noticed, not really, that evening, that Lupin was missing. The next evening, Severus felt as if something was wrong. As he was setting the tables for the late patrons—those who came home from the mills outside Ancoats—he began to worry. It wasn't a feeling he particularly enjoyed, but Lupin had, after all, helped him out rather a lot. Maybe tomorrow, Severus thought, he could go ask Lupin why he hadn't come by. Maybe. On the other hand, if Lupin didn't _want_ to come back to Severus' bistro, he had no intention of encouraging him. He had to remind himself he hated Remus Lupin, although the angry thoughts soon ended up in Severus pondering over the properties of the wolfish, happy grin Lupin sometimes sent him.

Of course there was no Lupin the next day, either. No one had seen him or heard from him, and he hadn't been at work, Arthur told Severus between the soup and the stew. Although Severus was busy, his thoughts periodically revolved around Lupin and his whereabouts, and it almost made him ruin the second batch of soup by adding sugar instead of salt. Severus knew he had solve the small mystery. If Remus Lupin's absence was able to distract him that much, something had to be done, and soon. Very soon.

So when the last patron had gone, Severus hurried to clean the kitchen. It was rather late, but he needed to see Lupin nevertheless. He took a bowl and poured the leftover stew in it, to somehow have an excuse for walking over to Lupin's place. He really didn't want Lupin to realise he cared, even if it was just a little.

Severus pulled a thick jumper over his head, grabbed the bowl and walked over the empty street to Lupin's rented room a couple of houses down Spinner's End. Knocking softly on the door to Remus' room, he waited, but no one answered. 'Lupin,' he called. 'You in there?' Nothing happened. Severus turned to leave, but hesitated. Had he heard a sound? He turned back, letting his hand hover over the doorknob for a second, reluctant to turn it. Intruding on Lupin's privacy... no, he couldn't do that. Another weak sound that seemed to come from behind the closed door made him change his mind. He opened the door quickly and was met by the stench of stale air and illness. Lupin lay sprawled over the bed in a tangle of sheets and blankets, the weak light from the street's gas lights made him look deadly pale and grey.

'Lupin! Damned... what's wrong with you?' Severus put the bowl down on top of a small cabinet just inside the door. The room looked neat and clean, apart from the mess in the bed. There was a bloody rag lying on the floor. He stepped over to the bed. Lupin tried to open his eyes, and they were glazed over from fever. Severus felt as if a cold hand had clenched his heart; this looked serious. Lupin's skin was dry and icy, but his brow was almost burning with fever.

Lupin groaned and coughed, his lips were slightly blood-stained. 'Bronchitis,' he managed between coughs. 'Worse than usual.'

Severus nodded. Everybody had it. It was a result of the polluted air in and outside the mills, but it could be a serious condition if it was not treated quickly. 'I'll get the doctor,' he said.

'No.' Lupin coughed again, this time his body shook from the violent contractions. 'Can't afford it.'

Severus looked at the thin, ragged man in the bed. If he didn't get a doctor, it could get serious. 'Shut up,' he said, the tone not utterly unfriendly. 'Or do you really want to die from this?' He pulled the drenched sheets out from under Lupin's body and threw them at the floor. Something had to be done here; Lupin looked terrible. Severus managed to push the almost unconscious man back to lie comfortably against the pillows. He covered him with the driest blanket and used the wet ones on top of it. Even wet blankets would help since there was no fire in the tiny, round stove in the corner.

'Sever-' Another coughing fit prevented Lupin from continuing.

'Can you manage? I'll come back as soon as I can. Half an hour.' Severus didn't wait for a reply but ran downstairs to ask Remus' landlady to send for the doctor. He hurried out on the street, across it, and ran over to the Weasley house. He banged loudly on the door.

'Arthur? Quickly! Wake up!' Severus' voice carried, and lights came on behind closed curtains in the nearby houses.

The green, slightly scratched front door opened and Arthur stuck his head out, squinting at Severus. He wore a heavy coat over his pyjamas. 'What's the matter? House afire?'

'Lupin's ill. I need help to carry him over to my house. Please, Arthur? Maybe Bill and Charlie can help?' Severus had forgotten that he never asked for help. Also he had forgotten that he a few months before rather would burn in hell than help Remus Lupin.

'Ill? Is it bad? The bronchitis again?' Arthur pulled his boots on. 'Charlie?' Arthur shouted, looking up the dark stairs. 'Charlie, get your clothes on—quick, boy!'

Severus breathed out loudly. 'Thanks. He has a fever, and... coughing blood. I have sent for the doctor.'

Charlie came running down, not wasting time asking what was wrong. The three men rushed back to Lupin's apartment, only to find him almost unconscious. Luckily it seemed as if the coughing had ceased.

Arthur touched the wet blankets. 'Doesn't look good, does it?' His tired face was worried.

'He had an attack like that in November. He managed,' Charlie said. 'At least he didn't get pneumonia.'

Severus glared at Charlie. Pneumonia was almost the same as being sentenced to death. 'He doesn't have pneumonia.'

'We'll see,' Arthur said. 'It is probably not that serious. What... where, Severus?'

'If we wrap him tightly in the sheets... he can-' Severus hesitated. He had no idea why he suddenly wanted to take care of Remus Lupin, but he supposed he owed him. 'He can have my bedroom. There's a decent stove, and he needs warmth and to rest in a proper bed.'

Arthur just looked at Severus as if he had gone mad. It was a known fact that Severus didn't like Remus Lupin very much. 'Alright. Charlie, help me here.'

Arthur and Charlie managed to pull the grey, threadbare blankets around Remus' limp body. They lifted him up, carrying the tall man between them, Arthur with an arm around Remus' waist. Charlie had draped Remus' arm over his shoulder and, with Remus' feet bumping uselessly against the stairs, they managed to manoeuvre him out of the damp building.

Severus' house was an oasis of warmth and luxury compared to it. As he had said, his bedroom was large and adequately heated; his bed was large and soft, and Severus hadn't yet changed the winter duvets for something lighter, since the nights were still chilly.

'Put him down on top of the bed. Keep the dirty blankets under him,' Severus demanded. It was quite clear Lupin needed to be cleaned up a bit before Severus would let him into his bed. 'A clean pyjamas and a bit of soap...' he murmured. He let Arthur and Charlie stoke the fire as he went downstairs to fetch some hot water, soap and a bucket. Lupin stank. Severus didn't think it was wise to let him stay like that.

With the help of the three Weasleys, they managed to undress Lupin, who just moaned and hung in their arms like a rag doll. It was too dangerous to bathe him properly; Lupin was too cold and too feverish as it was, but Severus managed to clean him up reasonably. With a fresh pyjamas, it was a large improvement from the mucus and blood-stained wreck they had dragged in.

'Now, pull the blankets out and let us get him under the duvet.' Severus pulled the heavy down duvet aside. He let a sigh, almost as loud as the one Lupin made, when the warm blankets and duvets encased the thin, shaking body. He felt an odd relief. If only the doctor would show up.

The Weasleys had left and gone back to their beds to continue their interrupted sleep before Dr. Smethwyck arrived. Severus had made himself a cuppa, having a large pot ready and hidden under the rose-patterned tea cosy, in case Lupin should wake up. He had brought the tea up to the bedroom, and stayed there until he was ushered out of the room by the doctor. He was left standing in the cold corridor, still wondering why he cared in the least about Lupin and whether he lived or died.

After a while, Dr. Smethwyck opened the door. 'Mr Snape? You can come in now.' The doctor waved Severus with him over to the bed. Lupin seemed only half awake, but at least there was life. 'Mr Lupin suffers from bronchitis. There is no pneumonia yet, but he needs to have his chest rubbed with camphor salve. Get him a steam inhaler and some menthol; it will dampen the dry cough and release the mucus.' The doctor put his stethoscope in the large leather bag he had with him. 'And don't let him sleep alone. If he gets another serious coughing fit, he might need help. Keep the fever down with wet cloths if he gets too warm; otherwise he needs to sweat it out.' Doctor Smethwyck looked at the tea cosy. 'Do you have any peppermint leaves?'

Severus nodded. 'I do. But I wonder when I became Mr Lupin's servant. Not exactly how I wanted to use the night.'

'Make him some peppermint tea. And if you want him to be able to thank you, you better look after him.' The doctor nodded and went out through the door.

Severus paid the doctor and saw him out, then returned to the kitchen. Peppermint tea... camphor... not alone... who did Lupin think he was? Irritated, Severus brewed another pot of tea in a smaller teapot. He brought a small jar of camphor with him as well, readying himself for his new—and hopefully, temporary—role as Lupin's nurse.

Lupin was fully awake when he came back, his eyes still glazed and tired. 'Thank you, Se-'

'Lie down and shut up,' Severus cut him off. 'The doctor says you need rest and camphor and whatnot. I am to be your nurse until you can crawl back to your dark den, it seems, since no one else has volunteered.' Severus looked quite dissatisfied. 'Now lie back so I can get this on you.' Severus held the camphor jar up. 'Doctor's orders.' Severus didn't want to touch Lupin. He didn't want to rub Lupin's chest with camphor, it was more than he could handle.

'You don't have to...' Lupin croaked. 'I can do it myself.' Lupin reached for the jar. His hand was shaking.

'No.'

'Severus, please. I... you don't want to touch me. I know how you think about... my kind.'

Severus glared at Lupin. His kind? Hadn't Lupin realised they were both _that_ kind. Bent. That was what made it worse, Severus realised. It wasn't bad that Lupin was rather attractive, and that he had a nice smile and wasn't too uneasy on the eye when he wasn't pale from fever and trying to cough his intestines up. It was bad that Severus hadn't touched another man for longer than he cared to remember, and the only possible prospect for that exercise Severus knew was... Lupin. Bad! Definitely bad.

Luckily, Lupin wasn't at all interesting to Severus. Anyone who was Sirius Black's cast-off held absolutely no interest for Severus. 'I don't care what kind you are, as long as you lie still so I can do this.' Severus pushed the duvet aside, attempting to unbutton Lupin's pyjamas. Lupin gave up and let Severus do what he liked; he didn't look like someone who had any fight left, and he just rested against the pillows, eyes half closed.

Severus scooped up a large dollop in his hand and then, almost hesitatingly, he spread the strong-smelling paste over Lupin's thin chest. Lupin's skin was burning under his touch. With slow, careful strokes, Severus massaged and rubbed until the camphor was absorbed. The softness under his hands made him wonder for a moment how this would feel if Lupin wasn't feverish and ill. Severus shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Suddenly the room felt as if there was a fire blazing inside of it. But the stove only crackled quietly in the corner, and no fire was spreading anywhere, except for the camphor's cold burning in his palms, and the blushing hotness of his cheeks. Severus moved his hands away from Lupin's body as if he had really touched something burning hot. 'I... I trust you can button your...' Severus stood, abruptly. He couldn't chase away the sensation of Lupin's skin under his fingers. 'The doctor ordered you to drink some peppermint tea,' Severus said, to break the silence that hung between them. He took a deep breath. 'And when did you last eat? You are too thin to fight disease.' Severus turned to look at Lupin again. 'Your intrusion is very inconvenient for me. I have a business to run,' he sneered, not entirely sure why he had to be so defensive.

'I am sorry.' Lupin looked very, very tired. 'If I knew my illness would bother you, I'd have refrained from having it, Severus.' He coughed slightly, the camphor already doing its job. 'Contrary to what you think, my main purpose here on Earth is not to annoy you.'

'Fascinating point of view,' Severus snapped arrogantly and strode over to the stove where the teapots stood on top of it. He poured a cup of mint-scented tea for his unwanted guest. 'Here,' he said and shoved the cup in Lupin's thin hands. 'I better make something for you to eat. I do not want you to die in my care. I am sure you are planning something that unpleasant, just to irritate me!'

Lupin was obviously too weak to answer, and Severus slammed the door as he, once more, went down to the kitchen to prepare something nourishing for Remus Lupin.

 

 

'Lupin? Lupin, wake up.' Severus's voice rung loud in the dark, but Lupin didn't wake. _Someone has to stay with him at night_ , the doctor had said. Not only had Severus offered his bed to Lupin, but Lupin had taken that offer a bit more seriously than Severus had thought, since the sleeping man not only had hogged most of the large bed, but also had thrown an arm over Severus' waist. A thin leg was wrapped around Severus' duvet-covered legs. He should have dragged a mattress in here so he could sleep on the floor, just as he had done the other nights, but he had honestly been too tired to drag anything other than himself into the bedroom when he had finished working at the bistro. He was tired of playing nurse, maid and cook for Lupin. However, luckily, Lupin was feeling better now. Severus had fed, washed and taken care of Remus Lupin for more than a week, and his fever had almost left and the violent coughing had reached a tolerable level. Lupin had even managed to come down to the basement and crawl into the big wooden tub Severus had filled with almost boiling water, heated on the cooker. The hot bath had made Lupin sigh deeply, rest his head against the rim and close his eyes in pleasure. When he got back between the sheets in fresh pyjamas, he had smiled and instantly fallen asleep—a calm sleep for the first time in days.

Severus stared up at the ceiling. The warmth of Lupin's body burned on his skin. He tried to push the arm away, but Lupin clearly had decided that Severus was some kind of cuddly toy he had to hang on to. There was a strange sensation of repressed lust pooling in Severus' groin. It was easy to forget one's needs when there was no one to tempt his celibacy. Even if Severus didn't like Lupin, wasn't attracted to him, and didn't want him in any way, the longings he had denied for a very long time rushed through his body. It would be so easy just to turn and fall into Lupin's unconscious embrace. So easy...

It was too much. Lupin wasn't useful for anything! Especially not for _that_ , for... intimacy. Roughly, Severus pushed Lupin away, not caring whether he was ill or not. Severus grabbed a blanket from the bed and strode out of the bedroom. He could hear Lupin's confused, sleepy, 'Severus... Severus, what's wrong?' as he slammed the door behind him. He would much rather sleep on a chair in the kitchen for a month than feel attracted to Lupin for a second. He _hated_ Lupin. Hated him. He told himself that several times until he was sure he meant it.

Severus dragged a chair over to the warm cooker. The fire had died down to embers, but the kitchen was still pleasantly warm. He fell asleep quickly, with the grey blanket wrapped tightly around his body. He didn't dream of anything—or anyone.

 

 

In the morning, Severus had woken up stiff and sore, with his cheek resting against the cold cooker. He had lit the fire and dressed when he heard a noise on the stairs. He peeked out of the kitchen door to find Lupin, wearing a pair of Severus' old trousers and a patched shirt that should have been used as rags years ago.

'Elegant, Lupin. Been into the garbage, have we?'

'I'm sorry Se-'

'Yes, you say that all the time,' Severus interrupted, not at all interested in Lupin's explanations and excuses. 'Always sorry. Are you ever happy? And why are you out of bed?'

'I feel better... thanks to you.' Lupin's words sounded hollow, as if Severus had hurt him. Lupin stepped closer and Severus retreated into the kitchen. Lupin followed; he was walking slowly, as if he was still weak.

'No matter I detest having you here,' Severus said, determinedly, 'you are not well enough to be up. Go back to bed, I'll make you breakfast.'

'I have to, Severus. If I don't get back to work I am going to lose my room. I can't be out sick for much longer.'

Severus turned away, leaning against the worktop, supporting himself, knuckles against the cold, white marble. Lupin was right. If he didn't work, he couldn't earn anything, and as it was, Lupin already seemed far too poor for his own good. Severus suddenly felt lucky he'd had a well paid job; that he had once had money enough to keep the house his mother had left him. Also, he was healthy which wasn't necessarily a matter of course. Compared to that, Lupin hadn't really been one of Fortuna's favourites. 'Alright. If you can manage to stay out of bed today, I'll let you out tomorrow.' Severus turned to face Lupin. 'If you can help me in the kitchen today without having several fits, and without fainting-' Severus glared at the thin, tired man in front of him, and felt an odd possessiveness well up inside him- 'then maybe... maybe I'll let you go.'

'If I didn't know better, I'd think you actually cared about me.' Lupin smiled, the same beautiful smile Severus had only seen once. It made Lupin look younger. 'It would probably be a misconception to think so?'

'Count on it,' Severus said, angrily, to cover up for his own confusion. 'I'd rather babysit the entire Weasley clan for a week than you for a day.'

Lupin just shook his head. 'What can I do? Something that needs to be peeled or mutilated? I am not a terribly good cook.' A wide, pleasant smile flickered over Lupin's face.

Severus just handed him a sharp knife. 'Go ruin some white cabbage. Small pieces.' He didn't return the smile, but it left him with a need to see it again. No, Lupin definitely wasn't uneasy on the eye.

They worked together for some time. Lupin didn't show any signs of fatigue, and his coughing had changed into little occasional _hem-hems_. He worked slowly, though, and he was paler than what seemed healthy. As they continued to work side by side in silence, the delicious smell of food spread in the kitchen. Adding minced meat to the mix of onions, cabbage and a bit of honey, cinnamon, ginger and coriander, Severus stirred the large pots he had simmering on the cooker. He looked at the chopped coriander leaves with some dissatisfaction. 'Could you possibly cut them finer?' Severus said. 'My customers are, no matter their intelligence, not ruminants.'

'I'm trying, Severus. I told you I'm not good at this.' Lupin was standing with his back to Severus, fighting to make the knife cooperate.

Severus put down the spoon he was using. 'You are doing it wrong. Why do I let you do this at all?' It was actually a question Severus would have liked to have the answer to already. Why was he putting up with a man he didn't like?

'Because you wouldn't let me go to work?' Lupin turned half way towards Severus. 'I have no idea. Maybe you just like to order me around?' He turned the knife, holding the hilt out for Severus to take. 'Why don't you show me instead of complaining?'

Lupin had a point. 'Turn,' Severus said, and stepped closer. 'Take the coriander, and show me what you do.' He watched as Lupin took a large handful of leaves and began to cut them up clumsily, hacking at the unsuspecting spices.

'No, no! Not like that. Here let me show you...' Severus took a step and put his right hand over Lupin's. 'Now, relax and follow my movements.' Slowly, Severus began to chop the coriander in a more appropriate way. Lupin caught on quickly, and Severus raised the pace, leaning against Lupin's back.

'Not so fast!' Lupin grinned and tried to do as Severus demanded. 'Severus! You are going to cut off my fingers like this,' Lupin laughed and suddenly Severus became aware of the way they were standing, his whole body pressed against Lupin's thin frame. The scent of Lupin's clean skin overwhelmed him, made him forget about coriander and ginger and any other spice. He inhaled, savouring it as if it was an expensive perfume. His hand stilled on Lupin's.

For a moment the kitchen was quiet, as if the world had stopped to take a deep breath.

The knife fell clattering from Lupin's hand, and Severus had no idea who took the first step. Suddenly his arms were around Lupin and, without pause or thought or consideration, his mouth was upon Lupin's lips; their bodies aligned perfectly, leaving no doubt about what they both wanted. He buried himself in Lupin's warmth. The kiss was deep and omnivorous as if they tried to crawl into the other's mouth—almost violent in their need to take and devour. Severus moaned softly; his brain had ceased to function, and all he wanted now was to touch the lean body, feel Lupin's nipples peak under his hand, make Lupin moan too, feel him as a _man_ , not as the tired, ill patient he had taken care of for a week.

Lupin was leaning back over the table, his back arched. He let Severus rub against him, his hands roaming over Severus' back. Lupin was hard against Severus' hardness and his body responded with a wild urge, leaving an impression of a much more determined and rough Lupin than the pliant, polite facade he showed to the world.

'Remus...' Severus' whispered against Lupin's mouth before lust swept them away once more. Severus entangled his hands in Remus' hair, kissing him with a brutal desire that spoke of conflicting feelings. Severus was ravishing Remus' mouth, not only tasting him, but biting and sucking his tongue; and Remus reciprocated wholeheartedly, kiss for kiss, bite for bite. Remus was whimpering, letting out little groans as Severus let go, moving down to bite and lick his neck.

'Severus... oh Lord, Severus...' Remus' voice was dark and raw from need. He tried to pull Severus closer, as if he couldn't get enough of the touches and kisses.

It made Severus startle. His brain began to function again, making him able to suppress the need and lust for a second. What the hell was he doing? He hated Lupin, and this was dangerous; he had no intention of letting himself be this vulnerable. Remus Lupin was Sirius Black's former lover (or so the rumour said—no one spoke openly about their kind of sexuality) and they had probably planned this to get to him. To get him in jail, even, or ruin his business with evil slander!

Severus straightened. He looked into Lupin's eyes for a moment; they shone golden in the weak sunlight. Lupin's lips were deliciously red, and had lost the paleness of the illness. For a second Severus just looked, admired. How beautifully deceit could hide itself. He could feel his face change, falling back into the usual sour expression. His anger rose, almost like an unruly animal, ready to tear and kill and ruin. 'Out,' he hissed coldly. 'Get out of my house, Lupin.'

'But...' Lupin's eyes expressed only confusion. 'What...'

'Out.' Severus pushed Lupin away. 'And don't you ever dare speak to me again, or even come near me.'

He turned away from Lupin, standing tense and angry as he heard the sound of quick footsteps disappearing up the stairs. He didn't dare breathe until he had heard the front door open and close behind the treacherous fool he had let into his house. Never again, he swore silently. Never again.

 

 

 

**Chapter 5: Falling Apart**

 

Severus worked hard the rest of the day, trying to repress the feeling of Lupin's body pressed against his own, and the flare of deep desire he had felt for a moment. He didn't want to think about it. Lupin had nothing to offer that Severus longed for—or so he tried to tell himself. Lupin was intolerable, weak, dangerous, wanton, a seducer and a liar. Severus almost believed it when he had repeated the litany of unpleasant features all afternoon.

He didn't sleep well. It was as if the imprint of Remus Lupin had attached itself to Severus' skin, to his memory. He turned in his bed and remembered nothing but the way Lupin had clung to his body while he was sleeping. He turned the other way, throwing his pillow angrily down in the foot end of the bed, as if changing sleeping-direction would erase the picture of Lupin's long leg thrown over his own. Tired, Severus dug his face into the pillow, only to be overwhelmed by Lupin's scent, still lingering in the fabric.

Lupin's skin had been softer than cotton, pleasant and smooth under Severus' hands. His hair had felt like silk. Severus turned again, staring out at the dark bedroom, remembering the light in Lupin's eyes. They had an odd golden colour that made Lupin look like a wild animal. Severus couldn't stop himself from wondering how they would look in the throes of passion, if they would glimmer and shine—if Lupin would moan his name when Severus made him come.

He hammered his hand down hard on the wooden bedside, as if the pain could make the thoughts stop. He groaned. It hurt, but not enough to chase the thought of a naked Lupin away. Damn it, damn it, damn it! What the hell was _wrong_ with him? Just because Lupin had helped him and worked next to him didn't mean that he was going to like the man, did it? Severus turned his head into the pillow and gave a cry of frustration. Oh, it took a long time before he fell asleep.

 

 

The next morning, he pretended everything was as it usually was. He hadn't kissed Lupin, he hadn't wanted him so much it ached, and he hadn't reacted with desire and arousal to Lupin's touches. No, today he would cook, and later Lupin would drop by for an hour to help and then (luckily) bugger off again to his own habitat, so Severus could have his bed in peace—and peace of mind as well. Yesterday had never happened. Severus conveniently forgot he had told Lupin to never show his face in his house again.

He was cutting up carrots and onions for soup when he first heard the commotion in the main street. He could hear loud cries and the ambulance bell coming closer, almost expecting the clatter of galloping horses and the sound of iron-bound wheels over the cobbled street. He put the knife down, and walked up the stairs to find out what had happened. At this time of day, it could only be an accident up at the mill. It wouldn't be the first time; the mills were dangerous workplaces with the big, steam-driven looms.

Severus waited for awhile; gossip travelled faster than any automobile or coach, and the news would reach him sooner or later. He watched the women running around like disturbed insects, as if someone had fiddled with a stick in their ant's nest. It probably felt that way; if one of their husbands had been caught in the loom, it could ruin a whole family. Severus felt strangely detached from the scene. He had no one to worry about, so why care? He would be sorry if it was Arthur, but it wouldn't ruin his world.

He stood there when a group of women and children returned to their houses. He didn't ask them anything , just listened to their chatter.

'... it was pure luck Manchester City just bought one of them motor-ambulances,' Mrs Tonks said. 'That's why he hasn't bled to death yet. My Ted said they had never seen so much blood.'

'Is he going to survive?' Mrs Patil's youngest asked, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder and tying a scarf around it. 'He is such a nice man.'

'They said there was a chance. If they can close the wound and he hasn't lost too much blood.' Mrs Longbottom straightened her old, ridiculous hat that lay like a dead seagull on top of her greying hair. 'The arm is gone of course. The loom took all of it.'

Severus looked after them as they passed by, their voices trailing off as they went further down the grey, dirty street. The spring wind blew the words back to him in fragments.

'...terrible... never... work again.'

'What... he do? The... poorhouse?'

'... bronchitis. He was so tired... caught... Lupin... die.'

'Wait.' Severus stepped out on the street. 'Wait! Who is it?' He was calling after the women, his heart felt as if it had suddenly frozen in his chest, as if a large fist was clenching around it.

Mrs Tonks stopped and turned around, shouting back at him. 'Remus Lupin! He was caught in the loom, the poor boy!'

Severus tried not to let his emotions show. He found it easier than he had counted on; he felt utterly empty and paralysed. Of course he shouldn't feel a thing. Lupin didn't matter to him at all. 'Is he... is he going to make it?' His voice sounded as if it came from someone else; insecure and scared.

'They think so.' Mrs Longbottom nodded. 'If the amputation goes well, and the bleeding stops. They had to cut him free from the loom! He wasn't well, he was too exhausted to be careful; he has just been ill. And the loom... you know how it is, Mr Snape... they are large machines, and Mr Dumbledore isn't that careful to see that the safety measures are in order.'

Severus just raised his hand, waving as if to thank her, and went inside. He closed the door behind him, leaning against the cold wall. Lupin was hurt, maybe dying? Lord, no! No... it couldn't happen! Slowly he slid down on the floor, kneeling, as a sensation of loss and desperation and guilt overwhelmed him. Oh Lord... if he hadn't chased Lupin away, this would never have happened. He hid his eyes in his hands, and for a few moments he let the pain rage through him. If only he had kept Lupin from leaving...

 

 

The next week passed in a haze. Severus worked, kept himself in a state of exhaustion that prevented thinking. He couldn't stand the pictures that came unbidden to his mind: made-up pictures of blood and the silent sounds of deep, pain-filled screams; of Lupin, deadly pale in a hospital bed, ruined for life. He couldn't stand the thought of Lupin dying, and most of all, he had a severe problem repressing the basic reasons this haunted him so intensely. He had never cared one whit about what happened to people around him and now he had to admit he actually cared about Remus Lupin. But guilt was a brutal master, and Severus almost wallowed in it, to a degree where he almost felt as if he had ripped the limb from Lupin's body himself. That the underlying reason for his self-blame was something else, something even more frightening, didn't occur to Severus at all.

Despite his futile attempts to forget what had happened, Severus couldn't stop himself from listening to the latest rumours, even if he tended to retreat to the kitchen whenever he had the possibility. Lupin's accident had been the topic for almost all conversations in the bistro, and Severus learned that Lupin had overcome the first crisis and was probably going to survive. Lupin's arm had been taken off entirely, Severus had been told, and if the wound wasn't infected, it would heal nicely.

 

 

'They are letting him out sometime this week,' Arthur Weasley told Mr Tonks over a pint and a large plate filled with spinach and bacon. He tore a large lump off a piece of brown, freshly baked bread and buttered it. 'He is alright, sort of.'

'Not coping well with the loss, eh?' Mr Tonks asked, and took a swig of the golden ale. 'It's normal... a lot of me men was like that after the war. Still feel as if the arm's there... some of 'em was downright out of their minds, if you ask me.'

Arthur shrugged. 'At least he didn't die. Although he says he'd been better off dead, Lupin does.'

'Maybe it would help if that old fart up at the mill would actually pay for the damage.' Mr Tonks's face darkened. 'Mr Dumbledore is a hard man, even if he doesn't look it. It's not the first time he won't pay someone who's been crippled because of his fancy new machinery.'

'He is hard, Dumbledore.' Arthur nodded. 'And Remus needs the money, he hasn't been as good as the rest of us, keeping up with the piecework. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had to rent a room with Mrs Lestrange. I am a bit worried, I am.' An expression of compassion settled on Arthur's face. 'He doesn't have any family that can take care of him.' Arthur put his fork down on the plate and pushed it away. He looked up and discovered Severus, standing as if he wasn't at all listening to the conversation. 'If only he had been married, but...'

'Ah, we don't talk about that, Arthur,' Mr Tonks said. 'Especially not in... present company.'

'What?' Severus sneered. 'Lupin isn't married because he likes men, and you're afraid I'd tell the police that Lupin is a bloody sodomite?' Severus' voice was low and dangerous, as to not let others hear the words. It felt good to sneer and rage; it covered up the unpleasantness of guilt and longing, at least for a while.

'It wouldn't be beneath you, would it?' Mr Tonks's eyes narrowed. 'It is well-known that you don't like Lupin much. But maybe prison will be better than the poorhouse for him.'

'Now, now, Ted.' Arthur patted Mr Tonks's hand. 'Severus is not like that. I know him. He'd never do something so mean.' He looked up, a slight, knowing smile on his lips. 'I think Severus and Remus might understand each other better than we think.'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Severus snarled and leaned over the table, glaring at Ted Tonks. 'But if you don't mind, I'll remind you that I am actually the owner of this restaurant, and I have difficulties expressing how much I simply love to be insulted in my own house, so either apologise or piss off!' Severus strode out before he said something he'd really regret. How dared Mr Tonks imply... well, outright accuse Severus of something like that? As if it wasn't hard enough as it was, hiding one's needs. It was probably the only thing that wasn't Lupin's fault. Or maybe it was? When Severus thought it over, Lupin hadn't precisely been an unwilling participant in the sharing of certain desires. Severus was so engulfed in his anger that he didn't even hear Mr Tonks's, _I'm sorry, Mr Snape_ as he disappeared back into his kitchen.

 

 

In the following days, Severus spent quite a lot of time looking out at the street. It wasn't as if there was something particularly interesting out there; the tree down the corner was budding, and spring was in progress. A few birds flew over the small houses, twittering and fluttering, totally unaware of the quiet man behind the bistro's windows. At first, Severus tried to lie to himself; he had dusted the windowsills, then cleaned the windows. The next day, he took down the curtains, washed them, and put them back up. He made sure the small restaurant (from which he had a nice view over the street) was clean, there were no wobbly chairs or tables left, and he even decided to serve food that didn't need his continued presence in the kitchen below so he could use more time in the bistro's dining room.

Severus had never paid so much attention to his environment. However, it was only one particular spot that held his interest. He didn't care about the cobbled street or the small, dirty houses. He didn't care about the towering chimney over at the mill, sprouting smoke over the block and the nearby river like an angry dragon. No, Severus used a lot of time to look over at Mrs Lestrange's house, to watch the window on the second floor, the one where the weak light would be lit when Remus was home again.

Finally, he had to admit it. He wanted to know if Lupin made it, wanted to know when he was let out of the hospital. Severus had burned the second batch of lamb stew before he caved in and just stared out the windows whenever he had time. As the days passed, he worried more and more. What if Lupin was dying? What if he was unable to walk or get home without help? What if Severus didn't see him again? What if he'd never feel Lupin's soft lips against his own and the soft touch of his tongue, and the not so soft pressure of Lupin's lower body moving against his?

The answer came late on a Monday, the day Severus had as his day off. Since he had nothing else to do, he had obsessively dragged a chair over to the window, alternating between watching the street and reading Escoffier's _Le Guide Culinaire_ , debating whether _pêche Melba_ or _crêpes Suzettes_ would be his preferred evening treat. He felt like an idiot, a bloody idiot. Finally, Escoffier's thoughts about how to organise, simplify and manage a menu distracted him for some time. When he looked up from the book, the light outside was fading, and he could see someone sitting outside the Lestrange house. He couldn't see who it was, not clearly, but his heart beat a bit faster. Lupin was home?

Severus put the heavy cookbook down. If Lupin was home, why was he sitting outside? Severus decided to drag a jumper on and go find out. At least he could finally berate Lupin his carelessness and the way he had scared them all. Not that Severus had been afraid; of course he hadn't, not at all. But Arthur had been worried, as had the rest of the Weasleys. He went out into the corridor and pulled a black woollen jumper over his head to protect himself against the chilly evening air.

He went outside, quickly reaching the Lestrange house. Lupin sat on the stone doorstep, looking desperately tired and forlorn. He had an old, battered suitcase and a cardboard box, tied together with a piece of brown twine beside him. He wore a ragged coat, flung loosely over his shoulders. One side of it looked strangely empty.

Lupin's eyes were empty too, when he looked up at Severus. 'Come to gloat?' he asked softly, his voice dull. 'I apologise for speaking to you, but you are standing in my bed.'

'Your... bed?' Severus hadn't expected the way Lupin had changed. It was as if the exhaustion that sometimes made Lupin grey and tired had taken over his whole body, his voice. Even his movements were slow and measured. 'I came to see how you were. Are you not well? Shouldn't you be inside, in your bed?' The guilt that had haunted Severus since he had heard about Lupin's accident returned full force. 'Let me help you,' he offered, unexpectedly, even to himself.

'No.' For the first time Lupin's voice seemed to have at least a little power. 'Please, Severus. Go away. You cannot help me now. I wouldn't want you to.' Lupin just turned his head away slowly, almost paralysed in the way he moved.

'Lupin, damn it!' Severus could feel his anger rise. What the hell was wrong with the man? Yes, he had lost an arm, but the brain hadn't been damaged, at least not to Severus' knowledge. He stepped closer and sank down on his knees in front of the sagging, quiet figure on the doorstep.

'Please, Severus. Go away.'

Lupin didn't even look at him now. Something was very, very wrong and Severus wasn't going to put up with Lupin's rejection. 'I am not going before you have told me why you are behaving so stupidly. Even if I am personally going to carry you to bed, I am staying until you go inside to get some rest. You look like shit.'

'Always the diplomat. Go home, Severus. At least you have one.'

'I do,' Severus said, slowly, suddenly suspicious. 'I have a home, and you,' he said, eyes narrowing, 'what have you got? Are you telling me the Lestranges threw you out?'

Lupin sighed heavily. 'They had to. They don't have any money either. They needed a new tenant.' Clumsily, Lupin pulled his dark-brown coat closer around himself. 'I can't pay my rent, Severus. I'm broke, and... Dumbledore doesn't want me back at the mill.'

'So that is why I am standing in your bed? You have decided to sleep on the street? You are sure your head wasn't in the loom too? Maybe half of your brain leaked out and no one noticed?' Severus _did_ know how Lupin felt—knew the powerlessness of having nowhere to go, no one to turn to. Only Lupin did: he had friends. Why didn't he go to them, ask for their help? Both Sirius Black and James Potter were wealthy—and Potter was Mr Dumbledore's godson. James Potter could possibly put a word in for Lupin, to convince Mr Dumbledore to take Lupin back. Severus knew the answer before he had thought the thought to an end: having wealthy friends, Lupin had made a virtue out of staying poor but independent, at least independent of their money. Severus could understand that. He had never been a charity case either. Pride... that, Severus understood.

'Thank you for your compassion and diplomacy, Severus, but it is not exactly what I need right now.' Lupin shuddered, as if he was cold. 'I just need to be left alone.'

'Diplomacy, my foot! I wager everyone has been on their tip-toes around you for weeks, but I don't care about your finer sentiments. Get up, you fool. You have to get to bed, and I will hear no more complaints from you. Up!' Unceremoniously, Severus took the suitcase that Lupin was leaning against, then pulled the cardboard box with him, dragging it up by the ties. He took a step down the cobbled street in the direction of his house. 'Are you coming, or do you expect me to come back for you and carry you like a blushing maiden over the threshold?'

The thin, tired man on the step looked utterly defeated. 'I am not sure I am actually able to stand.' There was a pause, then Lupin continued, 'Why are you doing this, Severus? You don't even like me.'

Severus ignored Lupin's words. He was well aware he didn't like Lupin, but he didn't like the unpleasant, unfamiliar feeling of guilt, either. Unfortunately, his dislike of Lupin hadn't lessened the need for him. It was strange to desire someone one didn't like. Severus turned, cardboard box under one arm, suitcase in the other. 'Blushing maiden it is, then. Don't move, Lupin.'

Severus put the box and the suitcase inside in the corridor, turning on the gaslight. It shone golden and welcoming. He left the front door open, the soft yellow light spilling out, drawing a square of light outside the house. The night air was crisp, as if the heavy dunes of smoke had lifted, and the night sky was blackened enough to let a few stars shine brightly from the dark firmament. He stepped out into the street again, for a moment watching Remus Lupin sitting lost and lonely in the moonlight. Severus had the feeling that his life stood still for a moment, as if the world had to breathe in deeply and decide what way fate would turn it. There was time yet—to regret, to take another turn, to not do what he was doing. Severus let out the air he had held inside, waiting for the odd puzzle that was his destiny to settle into the unexpected pattern of his possible future.

Again, he crossed the dark street. He stopped, just standing there, looking down at the man he had scorned for years, almost all his life, and another feeling was fighting the disdain, the contempt: something strange and, honestly, quite unwelcome. For the first time, Severus consciously admitted to himself he did more than desire Remus Lupin: he cared about him; cared about what happened to him, how he felt, what he wanted. For the first time, in as long as Severus could remember, his own needs and ambitions faded in the soft light under the moon. For the first time, someone else was more important to him than Severus Snape.

Severus held his hand out. 'Come,' he said softly. 'Please, Remus?'

Lupin looked up at him. There was a tinge of gold and life in his tired eyes. 'I... I don't want to intrude, Severus. I don't want your pity.'

Severus laughed, almost inaudibly. 'Pity? I don't even know the meaning of the word. I guarantee you, whatever I may give you, pity will not be it.'

The words made Lupin's face light up, a faint shadow of the wide, bright smile he had sent Severus the day they had kissed. 'I cannot pay you anything yet. I don't know when I'll be able. Who would want someone like me to work for them?'

'I know. You can pay me when you get work.' Severus had no intentions of offending Lupin by offering to let him live with him for free. It would probably make the man flee in panic, babbling about charity and pride. 'Come,' Severus repeated. 'You cannot stay out here indefinitely. It is going to be a cold night, and I'm sure Mrs Lestrange's ugly little lapdog will probably think you're a lamppost and pee on you before you wake up. I don't want you in my house, smelling of dog-pee, I can tell you already.'

'What would you want me in your house for at all?' Lupin asked solemnly, but couldn't help widening his smile. 'I am less than a man, as you see.'

'And an annoyance for two,' Severus bit. 'What will it be, Mr Lupin? I am not standing here all night, waiting for you to decide whether you'll be inside in a soft bed with a cuppa and freshly made scones balancing on a tray, or if you'd rather sleep on this comfortable pavement until someone picks you up like a stray dog and hands you over to the police.'

'Will there be butter and strawberry jam to go with them, the scones?' Lupin's smile was flashing brightly now, and Severus felt weak in the knees. He just nodded. 'I might consider it, then,' Lupin said. He hesitated, then raised his hand to grab Severus'. The fingers were thin and cold in Severus' warm hand. 'You are certain you have thought this through?' Lupin asked. 'As I remember it, you decided to never speak to me again, last time I saw you.'

The universe turned, shook, and let its fur fall into its proper place like a dog out of water, shaking itself to get dry. Severus could sense the rightness of it, feel it in his bones. This wasn't going to be an easy journey, not for any of them. Nothing had been said, and nothing was clear, not yet. There might come a day where it would be, and Severus had decided to take the chance and risk something he had never put at stake before: his heart.

'Yes. I have. And I'll tolerate no more protests from you, Remus Lupin,' Severus said as he helped Lupin stand with an arm around his waist. 'No more protests. Now we're going home.'

 

 

 

**Chapter 6: Black**

 

'I said I don't want any more protests. Lie down, or I'll make you.'

'Severus, please.'

'No, Remus. You can hardly stand, so get into bed, and I'll get you tea and food.'

Remus looked away, as if he was self-conscious, uncomfortable about how his body had changed, and it annoyed Severus in a strange way. Remus had nothing to be ashamed of.

'Then at least step outside. I can manage to get out of my clothes without help.'

'Wouldn't that require you let go of the chest of drawers?' Severus raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. If Remus was going to be stubborn, he could wait until the man realised he did need help.

Remus' eyes glittered, and for the first time, there was a trace of anger in them. 'Is it so hard for you to understand I'd rather not let anyone see... my...' Remus let go of the sturdy piece of furniture, swaying as if he was going to faint. 'I can manage. Please?'

'Yes, I can see that clearly.' Severus shook his head. He couldn't decide whether he should just let Remus fall, or help him. On the other hand, Remus had to learn that Severus didn't care whether he had lost his arm or not, that he wasn't scared away because of it. No regrets or mourning or anger could put it back. Also, Severus knew, his attraction to Remus had nothing to do with the number of limbs, but everything to do with his smile, and the way his eyes shone, and his intelligence. Not to mention that the man could be charming if he tried. There was also the fact that just the mere thought of Remus made Severus' heart beat faster and his body tighten in all the right places. Whether or not Remus was scarred had nothing to do with it. Nothing.

Severus stepped closer to Remus. 'I wonder if I should just let you be stubborn and fall, and maybe hurt yourself more, or simply ignore your spoiled-child act and get you to bed.' Severus held out his hand. His eyes softened. 'I don't care about your scars... don't you understand?'

Remus gave him a small, strained smile. 'I am not sure I do, no. We don't even like each other much.' He looked a bit confused, as if the kiss and the fire that had blazed between them those many weeks ago had never happened. Maybe he thought Severus' was driven by something other than his budding feelings, as if he were some bloody humanitarian. 'You are not going to give up until I give in, are you?' he asked.

'If you'd rather lie on the cold floor, be my guest. It is an improvement from the pavement, I take it.' Severus just shrugged and tried to look as if he were entirely indifferent to Remus' decision.

'I suppose so,' Remus said. 'But since I have the chance of taking over your bed again, I probably better grab it before your patience runs out and I find myself back outside.' Remus looked defeated. He made a movement as if to let go of his support and actually try to walk over to the bed.

'It wouldn't be beneath me, if you annoy me enough.' Severus put his arm around Remus' waist once more, carefully leading him to sit on the bedside. 'I don't offer you charity. I just want you to realise you cannot do everything by yourself right now. Later, you will. You just need a bit of rest and decent food. You've not lost your brain or your other arm, have you?' Severus knelt down to untie Remus' shoes.

It made Remus laugh, bitterly. 'You know, everyone has been so... considerate. They have barely been able to look at... the empty sleeve when they visited me at the hospital. You... you are just like a bull. You don't care, you just... ' Remus raised a hand as if to touch Severus, but put it down in his own lap instead. 'Sometimes it is easier when things are said... bluntly. Easier to deal with.'

'But not easy to accept, is that it? Accept you need...' Severus looked up at Remus, and his own need was clear in his eyes. Severus was the first to look away. Maybe Remus was crippled physically, but in that instant, Severus realised he was crippled too, in another way, in the way he refused to let people in, creating a need that was just as hard to deal with.

'No,' Remus said. 'Not everything is easy to accept. But if you don't try...' This time, he didn't hesitate. He cupped Severus' cheek, his thumb moved slowly over the cheekbone, caressing the soft skin. 'I think we both need to try, Severus.'

Severus looked into the golden eyes; at the gaunt, thin face; at the man he desired. He had accepted he wanted Remus, but to go from that realisation to admitting it openly; to act upon it, more than the kiss they had shared... he wasn't sure he could do that. But he had a choice: either refuse Remus, and never go back to what could have been, or risk his heart and his happiness. Only, he already knew he would hate to see Remus every day, knowing what he could have had and did not take when he had the chance. He nodded. 'Try... yes. I would like that.'

Above him Remus' face turned tender. He did not remove his hand from Severus' cheek. 'Even... even if I am... like this? I'm not... whole, Severus. I don't know if I'll ever be. I don't feel like a whole man.'

Severus' lips curled in a rare smile. 'You are man enough for me. The rest... I have time. We have time.'

Remus leaned forward, hesitating. It was Severus who moved to finally let their lips meet in a soft kiss. He slid an arm around Remus' waist, as if to steady him. They both sighed, almost happily, and Severus smiled again, his mouth against Remus'. 'Maybe I can be allowed to put you to bed now? Lupin, you are the most annoying man I have ever known.' Severus didn't let go of Remus, but unbuttoned his shirt without leaving the kiss. As they finally let go of each other, Remus' cheeks had colour, and Severus' breathing was slightly ragged.

'I... can't. Not... yet.' Remus tried to pull the shirt together, definitely self-conscious. 'It has to wait.'

'I have no intentions of doing anything but kissing you and tucking you in; I am not going to take advantage of an exhausted, tired man,' Severus said, his voice a bit rough. 'But I'll have to see your shoulder sooner or later, and if we have to go through this every time I am assisting you with something, I'd rather it be sooner so we can just get it over with. Your arm is not going to reattach itself anyway, by some miracle.' Severus smiled softly at Remus' expression. 'Later, when you are better, I _am_ going to see all of you, naked... at least I hope so. I am going to get used to it, and so will you.'

'I'd rather do this myself.' Remus sounded slightly angry. 'I don't want you to see me.'

'Suit yourself. If you think the arm is going to grow back before...' _Before I get to be in bed with you_ , Severus would have said, but didn't. He just rose up on his knees and kissed Remus again. 'I want you to be well and healthy, but you need to accept what has happened. That includes your scars and the empty sleeve.' Severus let a hand glide over Remus' ruined shoulder. 'I want it all, Remus. All of you.'

'All that's left, you mean?' Remus sighed deeply. 'Alright. Then help me if you must.' He suddenly looked very weary, as if he had given up and let go of the last hope he had.

'All that's left, yes.' Severus stood. 'You have pyjamas somewhere in here?' At Remus' nod, Severus opened the old, brown suitcase he had been pointing at, rummaging around in the neatly packed clothes to find blue-striped pyjamas, which he brought over to the bed. 'You think you can stand up for a moment while I help you with the trousers?'

'Er- yes.' Remus blushed.

'There is nothing I haven't seen before. Who do you think kept you clean when you had a fever?' Severus pulled Remus up slowly, holding him close for a moment. 'You have nothing to be ashamed of,' he said quietly. 'Nothing.' Quickly and without making a fuss, Severus helped Remus out of the grey woollen trousers and into the pyjama bottoms while Remus supported himself against Severus' shoulder. 'So, that wasn't so bad?' he asked, rhetorically. Severus stood and assisted Remus in sitting down again. He sat down beside him, on Remus' good side. There was no reason to push limits, it would be hard enough for Remus as it was. Severus understood how the exposure must feel, but hiding would not help. 'Come here,' he said, calmly pulling Remus closer. 'Maybe a slight distraction...'

Remus made a helpless little sound and Severus just had to kiss him, pulling him into an embrace. He let his hands work their way over Remus' body, to quietly push the shirt off his shoulders. Remus froze as the fabric slid down his arm. 'Shhh,' Severus said, as if he was calming a nervous animal, before he kissed Remus again. This time there was a more wholehearted reciprocation. Severus pulled Remus' vest up, breaking the kiss, so he could drag it over Remus' head. This time Remus didn't need encouragement to resume the kissing. Severus didn't know whether it was because Remus wanted to direct his attention to something other than his ruined body, but in that case, it didn't help: Severus was indeed becoming very, very interested in Remus' firm torso, and the way his hipbone jutted out a bit, making a small cave between it and the stomach.

Severus breathed in deeply, and fumbled to find the pyjama jacket. Remus smelled a bit of spring and hospital and fresh sweat. They stopped kissing for a moment, so Remus could slide his arm through the sleeve. Severus pulled the jacket over the other shoulder, once more finding Remus' soft lips. His fingers brushed slightly over the ridge of scars, over the empty socket where the arm had been. Remus' only reaction was a slight jerk. Then, his arm was around Severus' neck and the kiss deepened. Severus had some difficulties buttoning Remus' jacket; it felt much nicer just to slide his hand over the warm skin. Remus' tongue was playing on his lips, asking for entrance. He let Remus inside, and the feeling made Severus groan. What had begun as an understanding, a mutual attraction, grew to a hunger, to a promise of immense pleasure. Reluctantly, Severus withdrew a bit, leaving little butterfly kisses on Remus' mouth.

'I think we better-'

'Yes.' Remus was breathing heavily, too.

'I'll get you some tea, then.'

'Alright.'

'You need rest.'

'I know, but I'd rather...'

'I know.' Severus smiled. It was not a wide smile, but a true, happy smile. 'Me too.' He stroked Remus' cheek tenderly. 'Under the blankets with you.' He fluffed the pillows and put them up against the headboard. 'I'll fetch you scones,' he said, watching Remus crawl under the duvet, 'and strawberry jam.'

 

 

The following day, Severus went about to cook and make sure the things in the bistro was running smoothly. He had talked Remus into staying in bed, since the man obviously needed to rest and recover. Severus had slept in the guest bedroom, as he had no intentions of letting things go too far, too soon. Remus wasn't in a shape where that kind of exercise would be healthy, even if he seemingly would like it to go too far. They both would. Only Remus shouldn't feel as if he was paying for his stay in any way—not with his body, at least. Severus had meant what he said: this was Remus' home as long as he wanted it, no obligations attached. The rest—desire, need and maybe more—they would have to deal with later.

For a while, Severus forgot about Remus Lupin and kisses and everything else but making dinner for his guests.

A bit later, when all the men were coming home from the mills, Severus was listening to Arthur going on about Remus Lupin, and how terrible it was that the Lestranges had thrown him out, about how worrying it was no one knew Lupin's whereabouts.

Severus just sneered very angrily that he had no idea where Lupin was, and slammed a plate down before Arthur, hard, sloshing the sauce over the rim. It was none of Arthur's business that Remus currently resided in Severus' bed, enjoying a very nice Tournedos Rachel with Sauce Bordelaise, artichoke bottoms, and Pommes Duchesse followed by a Gruyére-and-Macaroni soufflé, all nicely served on a tray with a glass of a very good claret to go with it.

Arthur just stared at him, surprised over his tone of voice. 'I didn't mean it like that,' Arthur said. 'I...' His eyes widened, as if he saw something behind Severus that was even more surprising.

Severus turned around slowly. 'Well, isn't that going to make my day perfect?' Severus thought he had been angry before, but he hadn't—not compared to the ice-cold rage that flared inside him at the sight of his nemesis, Sirius Black. 'What a pleasant surprise,' he hissed. 'And it is going to be even more pleasant when I drag you outside and make certain you'll have problems returning unless you wish to crawl on your broken legs. I take it you have a doctor's appointment right after this?' Severus glared at Sirius Black's arrogant, perfect, beautiful face as if Sirius was a decidedly unwelcome bug. 'Are you going to leave willingly, or may I have the pleasure of helping you? Preferably with a meat-cleaver.'

Sirius glared back with an expression of contempt. 'If we can leave the meat-cleaver out for a moment, I have unfortunately come to ask for...' Sirius paused, looking as if he was choking on the words, 'your cooperation.'

'You have gone completely bonkers? Piss off, Black, and never come back. Before I hit you.' Severus' eyes were filled with a dark hate for the man who had tried to ruin Severus' name and reputation. 'Get out of my restaurant. Now.'

'If,' Sirius raised a hand, 'if you'll just listen for a moment. I am, however, not going to apologise for what has happened. I don't like you, Snape. But my friend is in trouble, and you might like to hear what I am going to tell you. It has a connection with the quite unfortunate incident with the books at Chez 'O. I wasn't the one who did the forgery, even if it was I who accused you of it.' Sirius had lowered his voice so only Severus could hear.

'Surely you didn't. That little creep, Pettigrew, he was in on it too. He's your new lover, is he?' Severus' face was contracted in anger, his words barely more than low growls. He stepped forward, as if to push Black.

'Of course he isn't. He's a rat. And I didn't know about the forgery until it was too late to... No, I admit I did it willingly. I don't like you.' Sirius looked even more superior and unpleasant. He continued, 'Pettigrew had his orders from Chez 'O's owner, Snape. It was he who forged the books on Dumbledore's orders. He just wanted to get rid of you without any trouble and I agreed to help, because I wanted you out as well. You are too high-maintenance for a place like the 'O.'

Severus took a step back, as if someone had hit him. 'Mr Dumbledore is the owner of Chez 'O?' He looked at Black with suspicion. 'And why are you telling me this? You don't care what happens to me, not the way you looked when I left Chez 'O. You'd have loved it if I had lost everything and ended up at the poorhouse.'

'True. But I care about Remus, and I was told you took him in when he was ill, just before the accident.' Black's face turned into a malicious grin. 'I didn't know Dumbledore had anything to do with Chez 'O either, not before Pettigrew told me, after the little incident with the books. He's just a sleeping partner, Dumbledore; Pettigrew usually is the one to manage the restaurant. But now Dumbledore is denying Remus the compensation he is entitled to after the accident; he's only going to pay if Remus takes this to court. And we all know he cannot afford that. Uncle Albus simply has gone too far this time.' Black looked sad and tired for a moment, the arrogant attitude seeping away. 'Remus is too proud to let others help him, and I want to make sure he gets what is rightfully his, one way or another. I somehow get the notion you are a man who doesn't refrain from getting back at those who wronged you, if you get the chance. I only suggest we declare a cease-fire and take our problems out on Mr Dumbledore.'

'Revenge? Even if it includes you as well?' Severus gave Black an equally malicious grin. 'I am not holding back, you know. I am going to make you regret what you did to me. You are just making it easier for me.' Severus shook his head. Good Lord, how he hated Sirius Black, but if it was true that Mr Dumbledore had a hand in this, he would take the chance for revenge on both his own and Remus' behalf. Severus realised he wanted Remus well and healthy, and with a decent compensation for his loss and pain, even more than he wanted revenge upon Black. 'Alright, then,' Severus said, not entirely happy with how things had developed. 'I detest you, but we have a cease-fire. Now, sit down so we can plan this.'

Sirius nodded, and followed Severus to a table set a bit apart from the rest. 'Is it possible to get some of the gruel you are producing here? I'm a bit peckish.' Sirius looked around as if the restaurant was no better than a pigsty. He tapped at the table with a long finger. 'At least the tablecloths are clean.'

'It'd be my pleasure to serve you some of my _gruel_ ,' Severus said, sourly. 'You want arsenic or strychnine to go with it?'

'Maybe some hydrochloric acid,' Sirius said. 'Seems some here are a bit too acerbic already. I'd like to fit in.'

'Shut up, Black. You are going to pay for it, like anybody else. And you'll never fit in.'

Black threw his hand in the air. 'Peace, Snape... please. We can fight when we have solved Remus' little problem.'

'That's... acceptable.' He nodded. He would get back at Sirius Black when they were done. He turned to fetch a bowl and some of the soup simmering in a large pot on top of the room's stove. Customers usually served themselves if Severus was in the basement kitchen. Severus returned with a delicious smelling leek and potato soup spiced with thyme. There was a large piece of dark bread to go with it. He put it down on the table in front of Sirius before he dragged a chair out so he could sit down.

'Just to begin with, have you any idea where Remus is?' Sirius asked, carefully blowing on the hot soup. 'Not that I thought he'd tell you, but maybe you've heard something? I am worried, since they let him out of the hospital yesterday and no one knows anything, apart from the Lestranges. They threw him out because they needed the money for the rent.'

'He's in my bed,' Severus said, and leaned back, conveniently forgetting he had decided that it had to be up to Remus if he wanted to let others know where he currently resided. 'He stayed the night.'

Sirius managed to splutter soup all over the table. 'He did _what_?'

'He stayed the night.' Severus looked over his nose at Sirius. 'I don't suppose you'd have offered him yours?'

Sirius managed to gather himself a bit. 'My bed, you mean?' He lowered his voice and his expression was suddenly solemn. 'We're not... lovers anymore.' Sirius took the napkin next to his plate and unfolded it. He looked angry. 'But Snape... Remus... in your bed? I don't believe it. Remus wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole! And of course I'd have offered; he's my friend and I lo- like him.' He dabbed the table with the napkin, trying to limit the damage. 'How did you get him to stay? He never wants to accept anything from me.'

Severus smirked. He liked that he had been able to shake Sirius Black. 'I don't treat him as a charity case. That's why. If you and sodding Potter stopped being so damned well-meaning and convinced of your own superiority, he would have been in your bed and not in mine.'

'I don't believe you. You are saying this to annoy me, Snape, I'm sure of it.' Sirius' glared at Severus, almost jealously. 'I came to you for help and now you taunt me, and Remus as well.'

'Right. And if you need any help, you better tell me now, otherwise you can just leave. I don't have time to listen to your drivel.' Severus began to push the chair back, as if he was leaving. 'I have a restaurant to run and a patient to take care of, believe it or not.'

'Snape... come on... I believe you. We both need to get revenge on my uncle. We can fight later. But for Remus' sake...' Sirius made puppy-eyes. 'He really spent the night with you?'

'Yes, he did.' Severus sat silent for a moment, considering what Sirius had asked for. If it was at all possible to pressure Dumbledore into paying Remus that compensation, then it might be worth the trouble. It would probably even help Remus heal. Severus wasn't thinking of the bodily healing. His own revenge on Black... he would get to that later. Severus didn't care whether he had to wait decades for it. Revenge was sweet and could be taken hot or cold, Severus didn't mind. Sirius would be wise to take that into consideration.

'Is he really in your bed? In person?' Sirius asked again, as if he still thought Severus was lying.

'None of your business, is it.' Severus smiled, an arrogant, haughty smile. He liked to have Black dangling, insecure and begging for his help. 'Remus will tell you if he thinks you need to know, won't he?'

'You are enjoying this far too much.' Sirius leaned back against the backrest and crossed his arms. 'But are you helping or not?'

'I'm helping. What do you suggest?'

Now it was Sirius' time to smirk. 'There are more than hundred cotton mills in Manchester. Almost two thousand warehouses. How many workers?'

'Don't know. Where are you going with this, Black?'

Sirius took a spoonful of the potato soup. 'You know, this is really good.' He pointed at the bowl. 'It was a mistake to kick you out... the new chef isn't half as good. You are wasting your talent here, Snape.'

'And? This is my restaurant, and I cook for people who deserve it now, not for spoiled rich brats.' Severus raised an eyebrow. 'When you are done sucking up to me, could we get on with your plan?'

'We can. If we return to the reply to my rather rhetorical question: there are maybe 100,000 people in Manchester's cotton industry, if we count the warehouse- and transportation workers too, and we are going to make them go on strike!'

'What? Now you've lost it. That is simply not possible, Black.' Severus looked stunned.

'Oh? What makes you so sure of that?' Sirius cocked his head, entirely sure of his own brilliance. 'It wouldn't be the first time. Just as it isn't the first time a worker lost a limb—and his job, and everything that goes with having a proper income—because of poor machinery. Trust me, Severus, it'll work. Just one day... It'll make Albus Dumbledore look bad in public if we can gather people just for a day, maybe two. It'll cost him. He's quite obsessed with his public image.'

'All your heroics must be done in public, is that it?' Severus glared at Black. He and his annoying friends had always been flamboyant. Large gestures and not so much cunning planning. The sneaky way they had got rid of Severus was not really Black's style, and Severus believed it when Black told him it was Dumbledore's work. Rumour had it that Dumbledore wasn't the kind elderly gentleman he looked like, but quite a bit more ruthless than that. 'Well, if it can get Remus what he is entitled to...'

Black stood. 'I knew I could count on you... always in for stirring things up a bet, eh? If you talk to your patrons and the Weasleys. I know a guy who works for the Union; I hope I can get them to print leaflets. You just make sure anyone who comes here knows what Dumbledore has done.' He patted Severus on the shoulder, something that earned him a glare that could have killed. 'Later,' Sirius grinned, 'and don't mention this to Remus. He'll just try to make us play nicely. We can't have that.'

Sirius was halfway to the door before he turned and mouthed 'He is in your bed? Really?' before he left.

Severus shook his head. Sirius had left him thinking deeply about the rather risky plan. Neither Black nor Severus had ever played nicely, and this time they were going to play with the big boys, the ones who bullied the smaller kids. Remus wouldn't understand. He was innocent in a way, naive, always willing to trust his fellow man and all such nonsense. Severus smiled and wondered if Remus would ever learn. He didn't think so. Maybe that was a part of his charm.

 

 

 

 

**Chapter 7: Phoenix Rising**

 

It had taken days for Remus to recover enough to regard his new environment with a modicum of interest. His shoulder and his mood hadn't improved, but the tiredness and the exhaustion had lessened. After a week in Severus' tender care, the man seemed to be able to appreciate the life that was going on around him.

Severus had never seen Remus this tired and angry and moody. The formerly so cheerful smile was replaced by a tense frown or a sad expression. As Severus was neither a priest or one of those modern psychologists, he just fed Remus, made sure the stove in the bedroom was warm and Remus' bedlinen fresh and clean. Occasionally, he allowed himself to let a hand slide over Remus' cheek, or to press a soft kiss on his brow. Otherwise he just let Remus be. There was nothing he could do. Severus wasn't willing to admit it, but he was at a loss.

However, Remus seemed to like the caresses, and it had surprised Severus to realise he did, too. It was a strange sensation to feel like this for a man he had disliked—well, hated, to be honest—for a very long time and the change made Severus wary. He really didn't know how to handle the attraction and the feeling of deep possessiveness that had replaced his former hate. Also, the slow progress towards something far from hate made Severus appreciate every little touch they shared, and somehow he understood that it had to be this way, for Remus' sake. Severus was sure the man's emotional state wasn't in a condition where he should be bothered with a suitor.

Nevertheless, Severus found himself enjoying every little step that brought them closer to... what they would end up having. He appreciated every single touch and it made him pay attention to how he could make Remus close his eyes in pleasure by the slightest caress, or see his eyes widen in surprise just before Severus leaned in to kiss him, to kiss his... friend, lover... yes... what was Remus, exactly? Severus hadn't yet found an answer to that and, probably, neither had Remus.

Severus had allowed a few of Remus' friends to visit him briefly when Remus had inquired. Only Remus did not seem to care much for the visits, and they tired him out as well. Severus felt an almost perverse pleasure by hearing Remus say, 'no I am fine, Severus takes good care of me,' to those who came to see him. Most looked as if they didn't believe him. Severus didn't either. He took good care of Remus, that much was true, but Remus wasn't really fine, even if he seemed to like Severus' attention and bloom slowly under his touches.

None of them had tried to repeat the heated kisses they had shared. Severus understood why: Remus was oddly shy, as if his accident had made him unattractive in Severus' eyes. At night, Severus dreamt of the deep kisses and the fire they had inflamed, and he woke up early, either smeared in his own come or with an almost aching erection. Remus might have lost an arm, but he had not lost his attraction. Severus still didn't understand how it had come this far; he suspected it was the strange combination of vulnerability and immense strength Remus possessed. He had not seen it before because he had been so caught up in his enmity with Black and Potter. The few months where Remus had helped him with the restaurant, just by being there, supporting him... it had changed things ever so slowly. But they had changed. There was so much more to Remus than just being the weak supporter of Severus' enemies.

Severus had no idea whether Remus shared his feelings, or if he had just been swept away by physical need. It made him jittery at times, annoyed and irritated and damned scared at other times. What if the confident (and very arousing) way Remus had treated him that day in the kitchen had been an one-off event? When Severus closed his eyes, he could still feel Remus' strong hands, see his sparkling tawny-golden eyes glitter and shine. The way Remus had leaned against the table and just taken over... Severus wanted that again. And again.

He just had to figure out how to get it.

 

 

'Breakfast,' Severus said, quietly. 'Are you awake?' He put the tray down on the table next to Remus' bed. The table was littered with books, some were Remus' own, some Severus'. A large pile Severus had found at the local pawnshop, obviously a scholar had been in need of funds, and had left a substantial library consisting of French poetry and British philosophical works. How anyone could take pleasure in reading Locke and Hume was beyond him. But Severus had bought the books (at a reasonable price, however) since Remus seemed so fond of reading. He had left them in the bedroom without a word.

'Mmmm. I'm not hungry.' Only Remus' hair stuck out from under the duvet, and Severus sat down on the bedside.

'Are you going to be difficult?' Severus put a hand on the duvet, somewhere around where Remus' hip were supposed to be. Remus usually slept on his good side, that much Severus had learned. 'Because if you are, I can probably find someone else who'd want the freshly baked buns and the eggs and the sausages. There are fried tomatoes as well.'

'Is it fried eggs?' it sounded from under the duvet, muffled.

'You are going to be difficult, I can hear.' Severus sighed loudly. 'They are scrambled. Now sit up and eat.'

Remus stretched and groaned, whimpering a bit. It didn't sound good. 'Are you alright?' Severus' hand tightened around the duvet.

'Not particularly. The muscles...' Remus' voice trailed off, partly muted by the thick duvet.

Severus wished they were better at communicating. They both had to learn. Remus tried to sound as if he wasn't feeling bad, as if he wouldn't be a burden. 'The muscles?' Severus inquired, 'They are tensing up?'

'Yes.' Remus pulled the duvet over his head entirely, making more miserable sounds. Severus was certain they were involuntary. It had to be bad today.

'Love, please.' The endearment slipped out so easily, as if it had just lurked in the corner of his mouth for the right time to flee and spread havoc. It felt good to say it, though, strange but good. Severus' thin mouth curled in an ironic smile. Leave it to sodding Remus Lupin to turn him into a soppy, lovesick schoolboy.

Remus murmured something under the pile of blankets and duvets.

'What?' Severus snapped. 'At least crawl out from your den, so I can hear you.' He pulled at the duvet, until Remus' head was outside. His face was contracted in pain. 'Damn it, Lupin! Why didn't you tell me?' Severus hid his worry with anger. 'I bloody well have earned the right to be told if you are not feeling well! How do you suppose I can help you if you hide it? Idiot man!'

'I'm sorry, I don't want to be a burden.' Remus' voice was shaking, as if the cramps were affecting his vocal cords as well.

'You are only a burden when you act this stupidly,' Severus sneered and rose from the bedside. He barked at Remus as he fetched a couple of brown bottles standing on top of the drawer. 'If I thought you were a burden, I'd not have let you into my house, would I?' Severus sat down and opened one bottle. He poured some of the liquid on a spoon. 'Turn,' he demanded. 'Opiates. So we can make the pain lessen.'

Remus managed to turn around, enough for Severus to feed him the medicine. 'I'm sorry, you are just so busy, and I never meant for you to take care of me like this, Severus.' Remus' body shook as another cramp took him. 'I'm... sor-' Remus' eyes filled with pain as if he expected yet another tremor.

'Shhh. It'll only take a few moments before it works.' Severus stroked Remus' hair. 'It'll pass, love. It'll pass.' Severus continued to soothe Remus, to let his fingers run through his hair, until the opium had worked. Remus still shook, the cramps were still there, but the pain was gone. 'Do you think you can sit if I help you?' Severus asked and pulled the duvet further down. 'I have something I'd like to try.'

'Yes. It is not as bad now.' Remus try to use his arm to get up, and he mostly ended up looking like a drunken crab, scrabbling on a beach of blankets. 'Maybe a bit of help would be nice,' he said. 'If you don't mind lending me an arm.'

'Depends.' Severus said. 'I'd like to get it back, and you have an unfortunate habit of losing them. But I suppose I can assist you without endangering myself.'

'You really are the most undiplomatic man I've ever known.' Remus didn't sound angry. He managed to wrap his arm around Severus' neck so Severus could help him up.

'Well, thank you. Just remember flattery will get you nowhere with me.' Severus slid into the bed, leaning against the headboard. He pulled Remus with him, with enough space between them to work on Remus' sore shoulder. 'I'm going to try and loosen those muscles,' Severus said. 'I need you to undress.'

'No, please. Can't you do it without... I don't think it is a good idea.' Remus sounded anxious.

'You persist in being difficult?' Severus rolled his eyes behind Remus' back. 'Why don't you take your coffee and stop being silly?' Severus leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Remus' neck. 'Haven't you understood I care about you... your health and I don't mind your scars?'

Remus turned a bit. 'I suppose so. Even though I'm still not used to it. You usually aren't the caring kind.' Remus reached for the coffee. 'But I am willing to obey you, if it means you will continue to not mind.' There was a hint of a smile in his voice. ' But it is still hard to... manage. I wasn't exactly healthy before this happened.'

'I'll help you,' Severus said softly. 'You are not alone.' And it was true. No matter how annoying Remus was, no matter how much Severus was going on about it, he knew he wouldn't let Remus go trough this by himself. No matter what Remus wanted, Severus would be by his side. There was still that gnawing tinge of guilt, but it was less about guilt now than it was about Remus' happiness. Severus tensed for an instant too, with a hand resting on Remus' shoulder. He usually didn't give much thought to what other people wanted or liked or wished for. How the hell had Remus Lupin suddenly become more important than Severus Snape?

It hit him like the blow of a fist. For a moment Severus' world shook, and left him shaken too. It was an almost harder revelation, this, than the moment Severus had realised he _needed_ Remus Lupin. The fact that Severus was willing to accept Remus as a friend or a lover, without first and foremost to calculate what was in it for himself was such a strange concept to him and he only now realised its significance. Severus groaned. It seemed as if he indeed was turning into a lovesick schoolboy. He had, without being aware of it, fallen in love. Love it was, Severus was certain—love or the flu—because nothing but that utterly useless feeling could have altered him from a sane, independent man into this slightly dizzy, tender, loving fool with butterflies in his stomach. Good Lord, what a disaster! He really hoped that the dizziness and the fluttering stomach was nothing but a cold or something like that. He didn't have much hope, though.

'Can't I keep the pyjama jacket on?' Remus asked again, dragging Severus out of his thoughts. 'Is it really necessary?'

Severus didn't reply right away. He knew how to ease Remus' thoughts away from his ruined body, but nothing could ease his away from the catastrophe it was to fall in love. Severus gathered himself. Remus was important now. He leaned closer to Remus again, brushing the long hair away from his shoulder. Severus kissed the spot just under the ear, and Remus trembled. Severus forgot about the horrible fate that had befallen him at the feeling of Remus' warm skin against his lips. 'Just let me,' he whispered. 'Just relax, love.' He kissed the soft skin again, moving further down to let his lips slide over Remus' nape. Since the man had his hand occupied by a large cup of coffee, there was no way he could stop Severus from distracting him. He wrapped Remus' hair around his hand, pulling it playfully. 'I love your skin,' he murmured. 'It's like velvet, and you smell so good.'

'Mhmm,' Remus just said and tilted his head a bit. He breathed out deeply, as if some of the tension slipped away.

Severus draped his arm around Remus' waist. He could understand Remus, it was odd that there was no arm, just empty space. But they couldn't keep hanging on to what wasn't there. Severus didn't care, and it was time Remus began not to care, either. Or at least he needed to understand that it was something inevitably static, and hence not worth wasting time and energy on. Remus tensed when Severus opened the pyjama jacket's bottom button. 'I need to touch your skin, please, Remus. Let me. I need to to ease your tension.'

Remus didn't object any more, and Severus put himself to the task of undressing him, altering between unbuttoning a button and distract Remus with more kisses, nibbling on an earlobe and fingers moving over a hard, muscular stomach. They were both breathing a bit heavily when Severus reached the top button. Severus leaned forward, pulling Remus a bit to the side. 'Kiss me,' he murmured. 'I need you.' There could be no doubt how much, because Severus was becoming hard against Remus' back. He saw no need to hide it, he'd rather show Remus how attracted he was to him if it could stop the man from being so self-conscious.

However, kisses definitely seemed to divert Remus' attention, and Severus did his best when Remus turned to let Severus reach his mouth. For some time, Severus revelled in the warmth and softness of Remus' lips. Before they broke apart, Severus had Remus' pyjama jacket unbuttoned and sliding off his shoulders. If Remus noticed, he didn't show.

Severus smiled and let go of Remus. He reached for the small bottle he had put on the table earlier. He uncorked it and poured a healthy amount of lemon-scented oil in his hand. Remus was still holding on to his coffee-mug and sipped while Severus spread the oil over his fingers. 'Lean forward,' Severus demanded. 'We're going to make those muscles behave.'

Obediently, Remus did what Severus asked, and soon he had him groaning and squirming beneath his hands. Severus carefully smeared the oil over Remus' skin while he gently began kneading the hard-strung muscles. The medicine had made Remus relax more. He was leaning into Severus' touches, moaning softly as he was massaged thoroughly.

'You are very good with your hands,' Remus managed to say. 'Strong fingers...'

'You like that?' Severus purred. 'Maybe you'd like it if I moved them down a bit?' Severus removed his hands from Remus' neck, down to the shoulder blades, where a particularly nasty infiltration had made a large knot. 'To here, for example?' Severus put pressure on the knot, and Remus yelped.

'I had hoped you would have reached for something else, something... harder,' Remus hissed between clenched teeth. 'This actually hurts!'

'I'd like something harder,' Severus said and made sure his cock was pressed against Remus' buttocks. 'When you feel better, and if you still want it.'

'God almighty! You are trying to drive me insane? Admit it, Severus! You _do_ hate me, and you are trying to drive me mad as a punishment for taking over your bed!' Remus turned a bit, to look at Severus. 'Damn it, man, you want it as much as I do!'

'Pushy now, are we?' Severus kneaded Remus' shoulders a bit harder and Remus winced. 'See, you are not ready for that yet. It isn't half an hour ago you lay in my bed, writhing in pain. You are definitely not well enough!'

Remus had turned around far enough to kiss Severus again. The kiss was wet and sloppy and deep, and Remus only spilled half the cup of coffee in the bed. 'I feel well now,' Remus said and bit his lip. 'Please? My shoulder will feel better! If you leave me like this, I am definitely going to be tense!'

'You feel horny, that's what you feel.' Severus smiled and took the cup from Remus' hand and handed Remus a napkin to mop op the mess with. Remus still wasn't well, and Severus suspected the opiates had lowered Remus' inhibitions, which was why he had no intentions to take advantage of his state. But to hear Remus beg for his touches... that he could enjoy (and possibly wank to the pleasant memory later). 'Forget it, Remus, you are not well enough to exercise like that. Here-' Severus reached for the plate with eggs and sausages. 'Eat, otherwise you'll never be strong enough to get laid ever again.'

'Just as I thought.' Remus' voice was low and he pouted a little as he took the plate. Severus thought it was adorable, a clear sign he had lost his mind to Cupid. 'You really are trying to make me explode, or at least to get some form of revenge. I didn't think you could be so evil. Here I offer you what is most precious to me, and you reject me! I thought you'd value my virtue higher than that.'

'Lupin,' Severus purred with a voice that sounded as if it was made of concentrated, steaming hot sex. 'If you knew how much I want to not reject you, you'd be surprised. But for now, all you get is a massage.' Severus hadn't known he had this much backbone. His attraction to Remus had grown since he had taken the man in, and there was nothing else he'd rather do than to make love to Remus Lupin for hours without end. He wouldn't just fuck him to get a brief release with Lupin under the influence of the strong medicine. It had been too long since Severus had touched another man, and he knew he could wait—and he would. He wanted Remus when he was whole and ready and had forgotten about the arm that wasn't there. When Remus' mind was whole. Only then would Severus give in. He didn't want to do it now, just so Remus could forget his pain and the trauma he had suffered. Severus pressed yet another soft kiss to Remus' neck and resumed the massage.

Remus just sighed deeply and began to eat the lukewarm eggs.

 

 

In the following weeks, Severus managed to stay away from potentially alluring situations. Remus relaxed a bit when it came to stripping off his shirt, and the massage became a daily habit. Remus got better: he was able to stay up for hours, taking occasional naps or just lying fully clad on the bed, but he still wasn't ready to go downstairs. Severus, on the other hand, had to. He had plans—and a business to run. He had convinced the Weasleys that the strike Black was planning was necessary, and the whole family joined Severus in convincing the other patrons, and the workers at the mill.

Black dropped by a few times, every time bringing a large bundle of pamphlets with information about the strike day to hand out. Black also got the confirmation he had wanted, regarding Remus' whereabouts. Severus had allowed him to go upstairs to see Remus, and the soft, 'Severus, is that you, love?' Remus had greeted him with as he knocked at the door, had left Sirius Black a very annoyed man. Severus managed to smirk only for half a day after Black had come running down the stairs, looking like a thundercloud, and left the bistro without as much as a word for good-bye. Severus realised he didn't have to look for revenge, he already had it. That Remus wanted Severus and not the handsome, wealthy, gorgeous Sirius Black had been a very hard blow to Black's confidence.

It took a week before Black had managed to swallow the Snape-sized surprise he had found. But return he did, and the strike plans went on as planned.

Upstairs, in the bedroom, Remus became increasingly restless. He felt better, or so he said. Severus continued to use his substantial cooking skills to feed Lupin up. Nothing was too extravagant or too rare. Remus had tasted Beluga sturgeon from the Caspian sea, salmon from Norway, lamb from Iceland and deer from New Forest. That was one thing Black and Pettigrew hadn't been able to take away from Severus: he had always had the reputation with the wholesalers, and at the market, that he was a difficult but honest customer, cunning enough to strike a hard bargain. It paid off now, that he had never tried to cheat them. Severus was able to get a few delicacies at a price no one else could have dreamed of. Some of the them knew Severus had made a small bistro for the mill-workers, and sometimes gave him a bargain on some of the more exotic things or something that had to be used the selfsame day—or yesterday. Even the mill-workers had eaten salmon once or twice.

The bistro ran smoothly, and Severus could afford the pampering of a certain Mr Lupin, as long as he was a bit careful with his money. But he was busy, the customers kept coming, and Severus realised that as soon as Remus was up and well, he would need his help. The rumour of the good, healthy and reasonably priced food had spread, and soon people were coming over from the other blocks, either to dine or to take some of the delicious food home with them. Handling the kitchen, the dishwashing, the early trips to the market... it was becoming too much. Severus looked increasingly tired and stressed, but for the first time in his life he woke up in the morning and felt a strange bubbly feeling he suspected was something akin to happiness. He still had those unpleasant thoughts that Remus' condition was his fault, but the nagging guilt lessened. He just didn't want to think about it, and tried to push the dark thoughts into a secluded, unlit and dusty corner in his mind.

He used his Monday off to give Remus his morning massage (executed without too much fuss and quite a few kisses), then went on to the task of mixing vanilla, cream and chocolate into a delicious ganache, a treat for Remus later on, when Severus went to drink his late cuppa with him after dinner. The strike organisers came by: Black, the Weasleys; Krum and Karkaroff over from the Watts Warehouse together with a few others. Constable Shacklebolt had come too; they wanted him to make sure they weren't violating any laws. Shacklebolt had taken to the habit of eating most of his meals at Severus' small bistro and was if not happy, then at least willing to help as well. He liked Severus' _Gratin de Poivre Verte_.

They used the afternoon on planning. Severus hadn't told Remus anything, there was no reason to, he would find out soon enough. More workers had agreed to strike, there were too many who knew someone who had been hurt or had been sick because of the poor conditions at the mills. They had no illusions the strike would accomplish anything but to put Dumbledore in a bad light, and maybe make one or two politicians aware of how common people were treated by some of the mill-owners. If it could make the factory owners improve the workers' safety, and maybe even pressure Dumbledore to cough up with the money he owed Lupin, they would have accomplished what they had set out to do.

Luckily it didn't take too much of Severus' time. He had more important things to do. Like cook a decent dinner for Remus, and make sure he ate it.

 

 

'Oh God!' Oh my God, Severus!' Remus moaned deeply and his eyes rolled back in his head. 'More!' Remus reached for Severus' hand to make him make a repeat performance.

'You are insatiable.' Severus turned, to reach for another piece of chocolate. 'You are only getting this piece, then no more _Truffes au Chocolat_ for you!' Severus wasn't sure he could stand listening to Remus' pleasure; the way he moaned made Severus think of other things than chocolate truffles. On the other hand, Remus' ecstatic smile seemed to be worth the sudden tightness of Severus' trousers.

Remus licked his lips hungrily. 'I have never tasted anything this delicious. You are spoiling me, Severus.' He watched Severus take another truffle between thumb and index finger and sat up in the bed, following Severus' movements. 'The dinner was perfect. You really are spoiling me, I could eat anything, you really shouldn't cook things especially for me. But this,' Remus pointed at the small silver plate with the truffles, 'it is art, Severus, as I told you. You compose chocolate poetry! Have you ever considered how sensual it feels to let good chocolate melt in your mouth, just feel it warm and soft and strong and deliciously bitter over your palate?' Remus looked at Severus, hungrily, there was that dangerous glitter of gold in his eyes.

Severus suddenly felt as if he was watched by a large predator. Or maybe Remus regarded him as a larger form of chocolate truffle, dark and bitter. 'You need to regain your strength,' Severus said, a bit snippy, as if to keep his calm. It was rather hard, literally, because he was hardening, just the thought of being able to feel Remus' delicious, pink tongue somewhere on his body was enough. 'You need meat to replenish the blood you lost, and vegetables... for vitamins. As you might understand, I am not feeding you as much as a breadcrumb too much. Also, chocolate is very nutritious!'

Severus knew it wasn't quite true; he had bought the best meat he could find, had chosen the most delicious (and since it was out of season, also most expensive) imported vegetables. Butter and cream was not too good for Remus either. If the excessive cooking was to relieve the slight, but ever-nagging sensation of guilt Severus still carried, or just because he actually did care more about Remus Lupin than he could express in words, he didn't know. Nevertheless, Remus didn't look ill anymore. There had been a vast improvement since Severus had found him outside the Lestrange house; he was rested and warm and well-fed, and it showed. Severus held the truffle up for Remus to take. 'This one is dark chocolate ganache with caramelised ginger and a bit of cinnamon.'

'Give it to me,' Remus demanded happily, with a longing expression, and tried to get up to take the titbit from Severus' hand. 'I am eating willingly from your hand, so don't tease me,' he said, smiling, as Severus moved his hand a bit, as if to make Remus reach for the truffle. 'Severus, please!'

Remus grabbed Severus' hand, and this time he wasn't careful. He took the piece of chocolate into his mouth, slowly closing his lips around Severus' index finger, slowly letting go of it as he sucked and licked the chocolate off him. The slide of Remus' warm mouth made Severus ache to feel it somewhere else, to watch Remus take him inside... Oh Lord! Severus groaned slightly. 'Shouldn't you be resting? You are not in a shape where you should try to seduce anybody.' Severus pulled his hand away. He didn't want Remus to think he owed him anything, especially not anything that included intimacy.

'No... no, you're right.' Remus smiled. 'But if you demand I am going to restrain myself, then you are not allowed to seduce me with food, either.'

'I am not trying to seduce you,' Severus said. 'I am just making sure you are properly fed, so we can get you out of bed. It has been weeks since you came back from the hospital, and you are feeling better, are you not? ' He fussed a bit, pulling the duvet higher up over Lupin's body. Remus did indeed look better; his body had begun to heal, and he seemed younger, as if the nutritious food had made him put on a bit of weight, and even added colour and let his impoverished body gain more strength and life.

'I am. Better. And you are—trying to seduce me, that is. Oysters, chocolate-covered strawberries, pineapple, asparagus, cinnamon? Aren't they all regarded as aphrodisiacs, Severus?'

'Erm-,' Severus said. He could feel a blush colouring his cheeks. 'Erm.'

'Maybe it is time we have a little talk,' Lupin said, carefully pushing himself up to sit against the headboard. His expression was serious. 'About you calling me 'love'... about that day... in the kitchen.'

'No,' Severus said. He couldn't do it. He couldn't talk about why Remus had become 'love' instead of 'Lupin', or 'Remus'. He couldn't talk about what he had felt that day, nor did he want to talk about how things had progressed since, or about what he felt. If Remus didn't understand that Severus could only speak of his feelings through the carefully prepared courses he made for him, then there was nothing to talk about. He didn't want to. He didn't want to admit that he had changed. He didn't want to admit he was guilty of chasing Remus away because of an unexpected kiss, that way making himself guilty of Remus' accident. He should have kept Lupin with him until he was well and cured of the bronchitis. Then Remus wouldn't have been too tired and exhausted to pay attention to the loom. 'No,' Severus repeated. 'I am not going to listen to you accuse me o-'

Lupin's hand closed around Severus' wrist in a tight grip. 'Accuse you of what?' Lupin's eyes narrowed. 'Why would I accuse you of anything?'

Severus glared at Lupin. This was exactly what he had tried to avoid. He wasn't _ready_ to analyse anything, and he was definitely not ready to face whatever it was Lupin has to say about what had happened between them. 'Please, Remus... I can't.'

Lupin didn't let go. 'Oh no, Severus. I am not letting you off the hook that easily.' There was a determination in the way Lupin looked at Severus, in the way his grip didn't waver. 'You have used your every awake hour to tell me I can manage, that I am whole, even if I am not. You did not accept it when I was wallowing in my misery. If it wasn't for you, I would have been living on the street. I would have given up.' Lupin's voice was louder, as if he was getting angry. 'You have driven me to—and at times—far beyond my limit. And now you demand of me I just let you set your borders back to where they have always been? Do you really want to go back there, Severus? To where you detest me, and I avoid you?'

Lupin pulled Severus closer. He had more strength than Severus had thought, in that one arm. 'Let me go, Lupin.'

'No.' Lupin's eyes were angry. 'This is not about accusations or avoidance. Don't you understand?'

Severus pulled his arm out of Lupin's grip. Anger threatened to overwhelm him. 'Don't touch me!' he snarled. 'Leave me alone, you pathetic idiot! I hate you!' The lie left him before he even thought it, letting him slip back into his former pattern far too easily. He stood and strode towards the door. Before he reached it, he felt Lupin move behind him, lightening fast. A hand reached over his shoulder and before he managed to open the door, it was shut in front of him. Lupin grabbed him by his collar and turned him. Severus made a gasp as he was pushed up against the wood. Lupin definitely had gained his strength.

'I told you to never, _ever_ talk to me like that again,' Lupin growled. 'I think I warned you I couldn't guarantee what would happen.'

It wasn't exactly what Severus had counted on. He looked into a pair of flashing, angry, golden eyes. He couldn't breathe. 'Lupin, please,' he managed.

'You have lost your right to beg, Severus. Now you are listening to what I say, and you are doing what I ask you to. My patience is not unlimited. Do you understand?' Lupin stepped closer, pressing himself against Severus.

'Yes,' Severus croaked. He couldn't do anything but stare petrified at the dominant, strong man who hovered over him, looking so ferally forceful. He had never seen Remus like this, not even when he had stolen those kisses from Severus in the kitchen. Severus felt a shudder go through him. Somehow Remus' behaviour spoke to something hidden so deep inside him that he wasn't able to suppress it; it was as if his base urges were called upon by the gorgeous animal Remus had turned into.

Severus should have been angry, he actually still was. He should have shouted at Remus, told him to bugger off and never touch him again, unless he had a wish to lose his other arm. Only he didn't. He couldn't. All he could do was act like a scared rabbit the second before the wolf closes its teeth around its neck. Good Lord, how he wished Remus would do exactly that, that he would open Severus' shirt and bare his neck and... oh... Severus' knees went weak. He had no idea why Remus' sudden action made him react like this but, as he stared into Remus' eyes, he realised the man wasn't just angry with him. There was a need and hunger in those eyes that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with desire.

'In the future,' Remus growled, his face barely inches from Severus', 'you are not going to tell me you hate me, unless I have given you reason to. You will not avoid important topics by getting angry and throw a tantrum and act like a spoiled child. In the future you will be respectful to me, as I am to you and, likewise, in the future, you will not accuse yourself of things you had nothing to do with.' Remus smiled: white, sharp teeth shining. It wasn't a pleasant smile; it was a smile which spoke of dominance and ferocity.

Severus just nodded. There wasn't anything else he could do. Right this instant, Remus could demand anything of him and he would give it, give in. Damned, the man was gorgeous like this. Severus could feel his own breath coming out in little strained puffs, his whole body was alert, aroused, ready. No wonder Sirius Black was still infatuated with Remus Lupin, and obviously mourned the loss of him as his lover, if this was how Lupin had treated Black, because Severus had never seen anything this gloriously sexy.

'You see,' Remus said, 'I should not have kissed you without asking your permission that day, without even knowing if you liked men, or liked _me_ , rather. I should not have gone to work, stubbornly; I know how dangerous the looms and the spinning jennies are. Nothing of that had anything to do with you and, as you have told me too many times already, there isn't a damned thing neither you or I can do about it. The arm is gone, it is not growing back, and I... we... we just have to live with what is inevitable. That isn't so hard to digest, is it?

'No,' Severus said. 'No.' He raised his head, arrogantly, as if it could gain him back some of his lost pride. Remus just looked hungrily at Severus' bared neck and pushed him even harder up against the wall. Remus was hard too.

'Unbutton your shirt,' Remus demanded, his voice a dark, dangerous growl. 'I want to see that beautiful neck of yours.' His hand fisted the shirt, as if to emphasise he meant what he said. 'Actually, there are many things I want from you, Severus.'

Severus made a very undignified moan. Things in his body tightened, and his cock was rubbing against Remus', just as hard and ready as his own. He closed his eyes for a moment, to consider whether he wanted this, wanted to let Remus have unhindered access to his body. Severus was certain Remus would let him go if he told him to; Remus was not a rapist. He opened his eyes again and looked into Remus' beautiful dark golden eyes and found them shining with feelings so deep that Severus had never thought anyone would look at him like that. Severus did not want Remus to let go of him. Ever.

The thought was obviously clear to read on his face, because Remus' smile grew wider. 'What will it be, Mr Snape? Are you going to open your shirt yourself or am I just going to rip it off you and carry you to bed like a blushing maiden? You won't mind if I take you to bed, will you? If you long for it as much as I do, I'm sure you won't.' He leaned in and bit Severus' neck lightly, licking the small strip of white skin above the shirt's collar. His breath and lips were hot against Severus' skin. 'I want to have you spread out, screaming and crying under me, begging me to take you harder. Any objections?' Remus leaned back then kissed Severus softly as he looked at him, searchingly. 'I thought not.'

'N-no.' Severus didn't think he was able to stand if Remus moved away, he was dizzy from lust and from being needed in the way Remus needed him. 'No,' he said, more firmly. 'No objections at all.' He raised his hands and tried to open the shirt, hands shaking. He could remember having been this aroused in his life. It was hard to open the buttons, he fumbled and looked up at Remus, as if begging for help.

'Mmhm,' Remus purred in his ear. 'Blushing maiden it is, then. I like that.' Without warning, he grabbed the shirt by the neck opening and ripped it open. 'Much better now.' Remus leaned in and licked a long trail over Severus' collarbone. 'Put your arms around my neck,' Remus demanded. 'I _will_ carry you.'

'I think you'll have to,' Severus managed, still half way in shock by Remus' behaviour. He moaned softly and draped his arms around Remus' neck. 'I don't think I can stand.'

'You won't have to. I'd like to have you lying naked before me in bed, very soon.' Remus reached down and pulled Severus up, and Severus wrapped his legs around Remus' waist. It brought their cocks even more firmly together, and Severus would have been happy to stay like this, with Remus rubbing against him, pressing him up against the door.

Severus tightened his arms around Remus' neck, then kissed him softly, pliantly, as if to give Remus permission to do whatever he wanted. Severus had never felt so special, so... well, he couldn't use _that_ word, since he didn't know if Remus felt it too, but Severus had no doubt now that he was needed. 'Then take me to bed,' he murmured, as his fingers played with Remus' golden-brown hair. 'You are far too ill to be doing this, and your illness obviously has affected your brain, but I suppose I better let you indulge if you think it makes you feel better.'

'Oh, it'll make me feel better,' Remus growled and turned to carry Severus over to the bed. 'And I'll make you feel good too. Very good.' Remus' hand was firmly placed around Severus' buttock, and he made Severus rub against him. 'Let go, love,' Remus said, and dumped Severus unceremoniously in the bed as he loosened his grip.

Severus looked up at his very-soon-to-be lover. Remus' eyes shone, and the feral smile had not left his mouth. Severus moved a bit in the bed, as if to make room for Remus, it was as much of an invitation he was going to give.

'No,' Remus said. 'Sit up and undress me. You usually seem to be so fond of that, and now you better show me how good you are at it.' He reached out for Severus' face, cupping his chin softly. 'I want your mouth all over me. I want to feel your tongue on my nipples, and your warmth encase me, feel you suck me.'

Severus' breath hitched. He had never thought Remus could be this demanding. The confidence he exuded was as the most powerful aphrodisiac. Somehow, Severus was relieved that he who usually had to take care of everything didn't seem to need to worry about a thing when he was in Remus' bed. A sense of freedom washed over him. All he needed to do was to show Remus how much he wanted him, and Remus would manage the rest. Severus could do that. He could definitely do that. All thoughts about Remus being weak, ill or not ready fled, and Severus raised up on his knees and began unbuttoning Remus' shirt, pulling it off him. This time there was no moaning about scars or awkward shyness. Remus entangled his fingers in Severus' hair, none too gently, and Severus moaned again. Remus only let go to let Severus slip his vest over his arm.

Remus' skin was so soft and wonderfully pale. His nipples looked inviting, and Remus _had_ demanded that Severus used his mouth, so why not begin there? Severus supported himself with an arm around Remus' waist, then licking one nipple carefully. Above him Remus hissed. Severus sucked the nipple into his mouth and felt it peaking, hard and soft at the same time. Remus' hand was back in his hair, pulling him closer, as if to show that Severus could be harsher. He bit the nipple slightly and had the satisfaction to hear Remus moan. He bit again, and this time Remus cried out softly.

As Severus used his tongue to lick and suck Remus' chest. He moved his hands further down to open Remus' trousers and pushed them over his hips. He hesitated a moment before he withdrew from Remus' left nipple to get a look at what else he had to offer. Severus had dreamt of this, of finally being able to touch the man he had fallen in love with, touch him in other ways than just to kiss and caress him softly. He rubbed his cheek against the hardness behind the cover of Remus' underpants, then slid them down carefully, at last revealing what was underneath. Severus sighed at the sight. It definitely had been far too long since he had touched another man.

He turned his eyes to meet Remus' before he took him inside.

'Please, Severus,' Remus asked, more tenderly, and less demanding. 'I want this. I want you.' Remus' eyes still held that golden mix of deep desire and tenderness in them.

'I want you too,' Severus managed. 'Very much.'

Remus buried his hand in Severus' hair and his cock in Severus' mouth, and for a while the only sounds heard were Remus' increasingly heavier breath and Severus' moans as Remus thrust in so wonderfully deep. He had missed this; the feeling of a hard cock in his mouth and a lover who appreciated Severus' skills in that area as well. Severus sucked hard, then swirled his tongue around the head, making Remus growl and tense the hand he had fisted firmly in Severus' hair.

'Easy, love,' Remus groaned, 'or you will not get what I promised you! It isn't as if I have had much of this lately.'

Severus let go, reluctantly. He placed a few kisses on the tip of Remus' delicious cock and sat back, looking expectantly at his lover. 'And I suppose you are going to order me around some more,' he snapped, quite without meaning it. He swung his legs over the bedside and placed his hands on Lupin's narrow hips. 'Get on with it,'then, he growled. 'What do you want?'

Remus' laughter was sweet music to Severus' ears. 'Oh, Severus! You are incredible.' Remus stroked his hair. 'That is one of the things I love about you, you see. Your attitude.'

Love? Lupin loved... Severus' head snapped up, his eyes wary with suspicion.

Pulling Severus' ripped shirt off his shoulders, Remus smiled. 'Why don't you undress? I want to see you naked, touch you and kiss you. I want to see if your body is as gorgeous as I think.' He lowered his voice to a purring growl. 'I didn't lie when I said I wanted you. I want your body, Severus, but not only that. I want all of you. I want to see you surrender to me, as I have surrendered myself to you when you took care of me.' Lupin's hand wandered down Severus' chest and arm. He entangled his fingers with Severus' and pulled him up from the bed. 'Undress, Severus.' The words were clear and not meant to be contradicted. 'Now.'

Severus saw no reason to object. Remus had declared himself; he wanted what Severus had. He wanted what Severus and was and everything he offered. Remus had said there were things he loved about Severus. He even wanted to believe the soppy nonsense, and it was the closest damned thing to a declaration of undying love Severus had ever been subjected to. Presurred hard, he might even admit he reciprocated the notion. He was Remus'. In any way Remus wanted him. Right now, Remus wanted him naked, and Severus stood, leaving the ripped shirt on the bed. 'Maybe you'd like to make use of what is yours,' he purred, almost sultrily, lowering his eyes to look at Lupin through dark lashes. He raised a hand to brush over a nipple. It peaked under his hand. 'It is all for you,' he whispered. 'All yours.'

'Oh God,' Remus moaned and pulled at Severus' belt. 'Help me here,' he growled. 'I cannot guarantee what I am going to do if you are not naked and ready in about five seconds!'

It did take five seconds, and maybe a bit more for Severus to pull his shoes and socks and the rest of his clothes off. Lupin clearly had the patience of an angel, since he managed not to push Severus back down on the bed before he had his trousers almost off. Lupin slid into the bed, on top of Severus, managing remarkably well to both keep Severus down and rub his cock against Severus' stomach at the same time. They kissed for a while, enjoying the soft waves of bodies moving against each other, until it was almost too much.

Severus let his hand stray over Lupin's hard thighs, over his narrow hips, amazed that he finally had this absolutely delicious piece of man in his bed. He had longed for it, for their union, and their tender lovemaking, but deep down he had wanted Remus to do exactly what he was doing this instant. The forceful way Remus behaved aroused Severus more than he could express, all he knew was that lovemaking had to wait until later; right now they both needed to fuck or be fucked, an exchange and release of the need they had created between them the last weeks. Severus closed his hands around Remus' cock and the groan it made Remus utter went directly to his own groin, as if he could get much harder.

'The oil,' Remus moaned... quickly, Severus.'

Turning a bit, Severus reached for the small bottle of lemon-scented massage oil on the bedside table. It would do fine as lubrication.

'Here, pour some over my fingers,' Remus demanded, and Severus hurried to uncork the bottle and pour a good amount in Remus' hand, helping him to smear it over his fingers.

Severus breathed out slowly, shakily, as he lay back in the bed, spreading his legs invitingly. 'Please, Remus.'

Lupin smiled hungrily. 'At your service.'

He pressed two fingers inside Severus, who held his breath for a moment; it had been too long, and he was almost too tight. 'Oh God... slowly... hurts...' Severus writhed, his eyes were closed, a way to relish the mix of pain and pleasure Remus' touch gave him. It had definitely been too long.

Remus _did_ have the patience of an angel. He waited until Severus was breathing heavily and his hips moved with the careful thrusts of Remus' fingers. 'I want to be inside you now,' he groaned, 'are you ready for me?'

'Yes! Lord, yes!' Severus' body was definitely as ready as his mind now, he ached for the feeling of Remus sliding inside him. 'Fuck me, Remus—before I go mad!'

'We can't have that,' Remus growled, and moved over Severus to push into him in one long, insanely slow thrust. Severus raised his legs to wrap them around Remus' back.

'Yes,' Remus moaned. 'You have the most perfect legs.' He kissed Severus' neck, nibbled the skin. 'You are perfect.' He began to move, slowly at first, then, as Severus' tightness allowed it, faster, harder.

There were no more words between them, only the perfect movement of body against body. Remus took Severus hard, with merciless, delightful thrusts, and Severus had never felt so wanted, so needed. He followed Remus' every movement, a dance of desire, a pounding rhythm that took Severus higher and higher as his lover gave him what he longed for. Remus' sweaty skin slid against his own, there was no room between their bodies, and Severus' cock was trapped between them, making it impossible for him to hold back much longer.

Remus was breathless, moaning. Sweat glistened over his pale skin, a drop sliding down the temple. Severus licked it off, then resumed their kissing. They were close, both of them. Remus hesitated for a moment. 'Can't...' he managed. 'Severus!' Then he raised up on his arm, looking down at Severus with a deeply possessive expression. 'Mine!' he growled. 'You are mine!'

'Yours,' Severus promised, because this instant that was what he was. There was no one else for him, no one half as infuriating and annoying and wonderfully perfect and knee-weakening dominant as Remus sodding Lupin, and if Remus insisted on claiming Severus as his, he could have him, because Severus had no intentions of denying Remus Lupin what he wished for. 'Yours,' he repeated, and the promise obviously pleased Remus; he aligned his body with Severus' once more, then bit his neck, much harder than before: as if he wanted to mark or seal their promise to each other. He thrust hard and deep several times, then let go of Severus' neck to let out a deep, almost animalistic moan, ripples of pleasure washing over him as he came. The movements of his body took Severus with him, and he undulated his hips against Remus' until he arched up from the bed in intense release, crying Remus' name over and over as his orgasm took him.

For a while they lay silent, Remus' forehead resting against Severus' shoulder before he finally withdrew and pulled Severus into an embrace, while their ragged breathing calmed. After a minute, Remus opened his eyes, the pleasure still lingering in them. 'Mine, then?' he whispered softly.

'Hmm,' Severus said, half way snarkily. 'You have molested my neck to a bloody mess, or so it feels, so you can't just return me, and get your money back. I am ruined for life!' He turned a bit and put an arm around Remus' slender waist, letting out a satisfied sigh. He did really mind to be Remus', even if he had to put up with his cheery attitude and his unfortunate habit of having friends. 'I'd say you're stuck with me,' he murmured, this time sounding as if he didn't mind.

'Brilliant,' Remus said, and his smile made Severus weak once more. 'Considering I'm in love with you, I find it a pleasant prospect.'

'I always knew you were an irresponsible fool,' Severus sneered, as his heart made a few particularly odd gymnastic exercises. 'But if you insist, I'll try to see if I can stand you for some time.' It was the closest Severus could come to expressing his feelings for Lupin. Severus wasn't in doubt how deep he felt for Remus. But Severus also found that telling Remus Lupin that he loved him was equal to loosing any foothold he had left and flinging himself into a free fall, not knowing if he'd fly or hit the ground hard. He wasn't ready. Not yet. 'I probably can't,' he snapped, 'but I'll try. After all someone has to take pity in you,' he said, and kissed his lover.

'That is most kind of you. Very... patient,' Remus grinned and snuggled up to Severus again with a wide smile plastered over his happy face.

They fell asleep like that, and in the early morning they made love, just like Severus had wanted it: a long exchange of caresses and loving glances, before they once more drifted away, caught up in the pleasure and the wonder of reciprocated feelings.

Severus didn't make it to the morning market, and when he couldn't allow himself to stay in bed with his lover any longer, Remus got up with him, and they both went down in the kitchen to bathe. Remus stayed, and when the first guests arrived he was the one to serve the stew Severus had managed to cook from Sunday's left-over vegetables and a piece of smoked bacon.

 

 

**Chapter 8: Strike**

 

Albert Square was filled to the brim. Severus couldn't remember he had ever seen the town hall square crowded like this. He had no idea how many people had showed up, but it was clear that Sirius' pamphlets had made the workers wake up. They all knew they could be the next to lose a limb or see one of their friends become ill from the dust in the factories. Both warehouse workers and people from the mills were joining. A few neatly written cardboard signs announced things like _Ancoats for Fairness_ or _Redhill Street Mill Supports Remus Lupin!_. Others were not quite as courteous, and demanded Mr Dumbledore's money as well as his accept to pay a handsome compensation to the people he had used up at the factory and almost killed during the process. No, Mr Dumbledore wasn't exactly a popular man amongst the workers.

Remus slid a hand down Severus' arm to entangle his fingers with Severus', unseen by others. 'What, exactly, have you been cooking up here,' he asked softly. 'You haven't done this by yourself, have you?' Remus didn't even sound surprised. 'I knew you were up to something.'

'No.' Severus shook his head. 'Your pathetic friend, Black, is into it, too. And the Weasleys.' It annoyed him to admit it, but Black's idea had actually worked. It seemed as if half of Manchester's population had come to show their discontent.

'Sirius?' Remus sounded utterly amazed, as if the fact that Severus had been able to be in the direct vicinity of Sirius Black without killing him was more important than the support his case suddenly had been given.

'What's so strange about that? We both want Dumbledore to pay what he owes you, and hopefully this will make one or two other forgetful mill-owners remember to look into the safety and working conditions as well.'

'So now you are a communist and a humanitarian?`Remus smiled and made Severus forget why he was standing on Albert Square in the first place, since the smile made him think of other pleasant ways to use a sunny Friday in May.

'I doubt it.' Severus returned the smile with a glare. 'I have no intentions to share my capital goods with anyone, especially since you are one of them. And the truce with Black lasts only until this is over.'

'Oh,' Remus said. 'I was just afraid someone had abducted my Severus and replaced him with someone house-broken and socially acceptable. I am very happy to find out that is not the case. I am not sure I could do without the daily moodiness and the way you chase off unwanted company.' He leaned in to brush his lips over Severus' ear. 'But I wouldn't love you half as much if you weren't as difficult. I have told you I love you, have I not?'

Severus sighed happily. 'Far too many times, you idiot man. Isn't it time you stopped shovelling out all that soppy nonsense?' His fingers tightened around Remus' hand. 'Now be quiet, Black is going to hand over a letter of protest to the Lord Mayor.'

They watched while Black walked up the stairs to the town hall to speak with the mayor, who kindly received the note and agreed to look into the case. The mayor murmured a couple of non-committal phrases and went back inside the town hall. At least he had come out to receive it. That had to be a good sign.

A few other dignitaries stepped up to make a speech. The mill owner from the New Little Mill spoke about how to make sure the mills and its workers could be protected, and the chairman of the National Union of General Workers spoke about how Manchester had been build on the sweat of the working classes.

'He's read too much Engels,' Severus murmured. 'The cotton famine is long over, and Friedrich Engels has been dead for decades.'

'But it explains the smell, all that sweating,' Remus said in a low voice, grinning. 'At least Engels knew what he was talking about, he lived here for several years. But I do appreciate the support, sweat or no sweat.'

The day went on with more speeches and, as they had agreed upon in the committee, no violence or unrest. The workers would act with dignity, that had been Severus' condition. They'd go calmly back to their homes, showing the that the workers were the pride of Manchester when the mill owners weren't . The police were helping, not only because of Kingsley Shacklebolt's influence, but the government had recently barred police officers from the right to belong to a trade union, or go on strike at all, and it seemed as if the constables saw fit to help the striking workers, since they weren't allowed to take such an action themselves, as a bit of revenge for their evoked rights.

But at the end of the day no one had seen Mr Dumbledore, not that they had counted on it. Only no one could be in doubt now, that Dumbledore wasn't a man to be trusted, no matter his friendly, twinkling, fatherly attitude. Also, the committee had decided, they were going to see if there was a reaction to what they had done, and if not, they were all ready to strike yet another day, and another.

Slowly, as the sun set, the workers drifted away, and Severus and Remus with them. 'Thank you,' Remus whispered as they had left the main streets and went along the canals, down the dark alleys to Spinner's End. 'I don't think I have ever had anyone tell me he loved me in such a grand way.'

Severus stopped close to the water. The canal burbled quietly, little waves sloshing cosily against the sides of it. The sky was darkening but clear, smoke-less, maybe as a result of the strike. No mills had been running all day. Severus looked up at the moon, silent for a moment. 'I didn't say that.'

'I know. You didn't have to.' Remus looked around, the street was quiet and no one was in sight. Kissing another man could get them in severe trouble, and this was out in the open. They had to be very careful. Remus put his arm around Severus' waist and dragged him close enough to be able to kiss him tenderly. 'You don't have to. You tell me how you feel every day by the way you touch me, by the way you look at me. I don't need any words.'

Remus was far too observant in Severus' opinion. He would tell Remus when he was ready, and the fool wasn't supposed to figure things out like this, not before Severus meant him to. That was what came from choosing Remus Lupin. The man would never cease to irritate and annoy him, or act inappropriately. Most inconvenient! Severus loved that about Remus too. Only he didn't say anything about it, just huffed at Remus and kissed him back, lovingly, before they let go of each other and walked hand in hand back to their small house in Spinner's End.

 

 

The small restaurant was filled to the brim, almost before Severus and Remus had taken off their jackets. All the Weasleys and Constable Shacklebolt were there, and most of the usual patrons. Candles were lit and Ginny Weasley helped Remus set the tables. Remus had constructed a tray with straps so he was able to work one-handed, but it went somewhat faster with Ginny's help. Molly went down to the kitchen to help Severus make a decent meal for the strikers, so Severus cut out smoked herring and split fennel in quarters. Molly was grating potatoes for Pommes Rösti. A delicious Crème fraîche spiced with dill was ready in the icebox. A simple chicken soup with vegetables simmered on the cooker.

Ginny and Remus served the food upstairs, Severus had been particularly creative and had built little towers with the pommes Röstis and the herring. It looked like little lighthouses on a white sea, with small fennel boats surrounding it. Finally everybody had got their food and for a while the restaurant was silent but for the chink of knives and forks, so when the front door opened and a small bespectacled man entered, everybody looked up.

'Excusez-moi... Iz it possible to... mangér... eat?' the man asked.

Remus left his chair to greet the unknown customer. 'Yes, unfortunately we seem a bit out of tables, but if you don't mind you can sit with us.'

'Ah.' The newcomer looked a bit surprised. 'Zat will be nice. Merci. Le bistro was... un recommendation, ze... everyone say ze Spinner's Bistro... '

'Oh, that is most kind of er- everyone, to say so.' Remus smiled cordially. 'We're just a sort of soup kitchen for the workers, but Severus... Mr Snape, is a very good cook.' Remus helped the new guest to sit down, and put a pint of light ale in front of him. 'We don't have wine or anything fancy,' Remus said. 'I'm afraid it is ale or tea. It is the same with the food, there is only today's special, and soup, so it's take it or leave it.'

'Snape? Monsieur Severus Snape?' The small man's eyes widened. 'Le chef de Chez 'ogwarts? Non, c'est impossible! Monsieur Snape est un artiste... 'e would not...'

'He would. He didn't really have a choice. How do you know about Severus in the first place,' Remus inquired, curiously. 'A frequent guest at Chez 'O?'

'Non... je suis... travelling with mon automobile. J'écris des... I... write travel books. M'sieur Snape iz... famouz.' The man looked rather impressed. 'Le plat du jour, s'il vous plait.'

'Oh, you mean his temper is?' Remus grinned, and went to fetch a plate with a potato-tower and fennel for small Frenchman.

'Non,' the Frenchman said when Remus returned. 'M'sieur Snape iz a famous chef. Il est... Le tempérament est le signature d'un grand chef!'

'Aha.' Remus laughed. 'That explains it, of course. And here I just thought he was being difficult.'

The Frenchman dug into his food, and soon an expression of deep pleasure spread over his face. 'M'sieur Snape is... tres genial! He serves food like zis, always, for ze guests? So... simple? Magnifique!'

'Thanks,' Remus smiled. 'I am certain he'd be happy to know you appreciate the food. As you say, it is simple, we need to use mostly the local raw materials of the season to keep the price down; no one here can afford anything the least expensive. But it is an improvement from their usual diet of white bread with margarine.'

'C'est... nouvelle... so different from what M'sieur Escoffier creates; 'e makes so many 'eavy sauces. All chefs in France make 'eavy sauces!'

For some time Remus and the Weasleys ate and spoke with their unknown guest who had been travelling to Scotland and now were on his way back to France, wanting to catch a boat to Calais. The Monsieur had actually visited Chez 'O a few years ago. He had enjoyed Severus' cooking, although the waiters had been awful. The twins sat, giggling, and mouthed 'Sirius' at each other.

When the Frenchman had finished his food, he pushed his plate away, moaning. 'Zis was very good. Tea... c'est possible?'

'Oh, of course. I think we might even have some of Severus' chocolate truffles left, not that we usually serve things like that, but since you have such a long way to drive...'

'Merci, zat is most kind.'

Remus ran down in the kitchen and came back with tea and a small plate with chocolate truffles. 'These are er-' Remus looked at the small chocolate balls, '-chocolate, chili and honey.' He pointed at another. 'And this is orange and almond. Severus said to tell you the chili-and-honey ones might not go well with the tea. But I can wrap them up for you, if you like.'

'I will juzt eat them after ze tea,' the little man said. 'Zey look très delicious!'

A bit later—after having moaned over the truffles—the Frenchman stood. 'It 'as been an interesting experience, Monsieur...'

'Lupin. Remus Lupin. And with whom have I had the pleasure of dining?' Remus asked.

'Michelin. André Michelin.' Monsieur Michelin handed his card to Remus together with a generous tip. 'Your Severus might know who I am. Please, give him my regards.'

'I shall do that, and thank you M'sieur, have a pleasant trip.'

Remus put the card in his pocket without looking at it, and sat down to discuss the events of the day with the rest of the strike committee. They had decided to wait for Dumbledore or the mayor to react, otherwise they'd repeat the strike a month or two later. Constable Shacklebolt had a few ideas on how to manage Mr Dumbledore, usually people underestimated him because of his age and his kind attitude. Dumbledore had lost his sister some years ago, she had just disappeared. It was said she had drowned in one of the canals. Usually it made people—no matter if they were workers or public servants—tiptoe around the nice, elderly gentleman who had suffered such a horrible loss. The sister had never been found. Neither had Dumbledore's secret books. Shacklebolt was rather certain Mr Dumbledore had hid away money, only no one had been able to prove anything.

Remus called Severus up from the kitchen and asked him to tell Kingsley Shacklebolt how Mr Dumbledore and Mr Pettigrew had forged the books to make Severus look like a thief, and Shacklebolt looked extremely satisfied by the prospect of nailing Dumbledore for fraud.

'We will keep it as backup plan if he doesn't give in. I am certain he has two sets of books,' Shacklebolt said. 'It looks alright at a first glance, we have already had our accountants to look them over. He was very cooperative when we asked, and didn't mind letting us look at everything we asked for. But he was far too fond of himself while we where there; smug and satisfied. I am sure he had concealed something.'

They sat for a while, drinking tea and discussing their options, until people slowly bid them goodnight and went home.

When the restaurant finally was empty, Remus leaned back in the chair. 'What a day, I am positively exhausted.'

Severus pressed a kiss to Remus' brow. 'But you feel better? You have worked a full day, and you are still standing. Maybe we can declare you cured now?'

'Apart from the arm. Sometimes it feels as if it is still there. Rather strange sensation, if you ask me. A bit like a decapitated ghost following me around. Except it is... er... de-armified?' Remus smiled and took Severus' hand. 'A good thing one of us is still whole. There are one or two things which need more than one arm to perform.' Remus' eyes were shining with mischief. 'Maybe you would like to go upstairs with me and... assist me?'

Severus watched his lover with a raised eyebrow. Somehow it seemed as if the day had brought some kind of closure. Even if Remus looked tired, there was a quite different air around him; he seemed confident, as if he had finally found his equilibrium. Severus raised Remus' hand to his lips and kissed it. 'As m'lord wishes. Anything to please you, love.'

'Mmmm, I can think of one or two things that would please me greatly... and you as well. Come on,' he urged and pulled Severus up from the chair. 'Last man in bed makes breakfast tomorrow.'

Severus won.

Remus didn't even manage to do anything but unbutton his trousers before Severus had found the oil and had Remus - still with his trousers on - slick and ready, and so was Severus.

'Severus!' Remus groaned as he sank into his lover without further preparation.

Severus watched Remus' face contract in pleasure, the way he bit his lip was so utterly cute that Severus had to kiss Remus violently. Remus reciprocated by thrusting hard inside Severus, kissing back just as forcefully. The kiss developed into wild bites and sucking and tongues intertwining. Suddenly there was no way any of them could hold back. Severus slid a hand between them and wrapped it around his cock as well as possible, since he had Remus' lean body moving on top of his own. Remus took him hard; without any patience or holding back, and the ruthless fucking made Severus make little mewling noises. Remus just growled, bit Severus' shoulder and came with a hoarse cry.

Almost before Remus had regained the ability to breathe, he was on his knees between Severus' legs, batting his hand away from his cock. 'Mine!' Remus declared, hoarsely. 'I want to see you come... you're so beautiful when you come...'

Severus knew it was not even close to be true, but if Remus wanted to live in his delusion, Severus wasn't the one to drag him out of it. He lay back, enjoying Remus' cunning hand. 'There's at least one thing you master to... oh... God... perfection,' he moaned as Remus increased the rhythm. 'Remus!' Severus cried out and came, thrusting into Remus' warm, hard hand. He lay panting with closed eyes until Remus had taken a washcloth from the bedside table and cleaned them both a bit. He looked up at Remus who was trying to get out of his trousers without standing.

'You know, that is much easier if you take the shoes off first.' Sometimes Remus was like a little boy, forgetting everything, to revel in a pleasure or a piece of candy or a book. Severus loved it. He loved that Remus had this soft side. He loved that Remus was hard and dominant at times. Actually, he just loved Remus quite a lot.

Remus had managed to get shoes and socks off, and pulled the trousers off one long, delicious leg. Severus watched with some interest, even though he could not act on it right now. No one would prevent him from touching, though, and falling asleep with his hands on Remus' muscular thigh wasn't exactly repulsive. Severus enjoyed the prospect, watching Remus through heavy-lidded eyes as a small white piece of paper fell out of one of the trouser-pockets.

'Oh, ' Remus said and took the small cream-coloured card, 'that was from that French customer... he said you might know who he is, and I promised to give you his card.'

Severus didn't care about any customers, or any assumed acquaintance he might have with them. He just wanted to go to sleep with his lover in his arms, but took the card when Remus handed it to him. He was just to put it on the bedside table when he saw the magical words:

M. André Michelin  
_Compagnie Générale des Ètablissements Michelin_  
Clermont-Ferrand,  
France

'Bloody hell!' Severus sat up with an expression of terror on his face. 'You didn't by any way offend him? And he liked the food? Why was he here at all? What did he say?' Severus fidgeted, almost in panic.

Remus sat back, staring at him, wide-eyed. 'What's wrong? He was a very nice man, and he liked the food. He said it was excellent.' Remus put a hand over Severus. 'Love, what's the matter? He wasn't from the tax authorities, was he?'

'No!' Severus hid his head in his hands. This was a disaster. 'It is much, much worse. André Michelin is the author who writes and publishes a travel-book, _Le Guide Michelin_ ; the world's most trusted recommendations to quality restaurants all over Europe!'

It took Remus quite some time to calm Severus down enough for them to go to sleep as Severus clung to him as a drowning man would to a piece of driftwood. Severus kept babbling about his reputation. He was certain the tattered remains of it would be ruined forever if any remotely acclaimed chef found out that he was boiling potatoes for the Manchester mill workers. However, there was nothing he could do to stop the catastrophe now. Severus sighed deeply, snuggled up to Remus, pulled the soft duvet over them and tried to fall sleep. Not even Sirius Black could have taken revenge in a way that was worse than this. Fate obviously hated Severus Snape. He had served bloody potatoes and herring for the author of _Le Guide Michelin_. Christ almighty, what a disaster!

 

 

 

**Chapter 9: Moods**

 

Moody. Severus was moody. It was a condition he has found himself in far too many times lately. He sneered at Remus, he sneered at the patrons and he sneered at Ginny Weasley who had been hired to assist Remus at the bistro, so Severus could get some piece and quiet in his kitchen. He rarely left it. He went to the market early in the morning, leaving Remus sleeping in their large bed. He cooked all day, sneered at whomever dared show their face in the basement and went to bed late. He was not in the mood for sex, he was not in the mood for Remus' comfort. To say it right out: Severus had fallen back to his usual behaviour, and no one really enjoyed it, not even Severus himself. He just wanted to be left alone.

But he missed the closeness he had with Remus, he missed the Weasleys' (God forbid!) kind company, and he missed not being alone. Only he was gloomy and brooding, and insecure most of all. He used all his time pondering whether he had taken the right decision when he let himself be talked into the bistro-idea. What if he was never able to work in a reputable and acclaimed restaurant again? Would everything he had learned and gone through to become one of England's best cooks have been in vain? Was he meant to end his days as a soup kitchen cook, forgotten and despised?

Things had looked so good. Now he was without a proper job, although he earned a decent living. His lover regarded him as if he was contagious with something decidedly unpleasant, and even the strike had given the expected result. Weeks had gone by, and Severus was restless. He felt as if he moved in a vacuum, nothing he did mattered.

Severus really wished that André Michelin had never set foot in his house. Severus had about had it with strikes, Frenchmen, and especially with lovers who looked at him as if they were tiny puppets he had kicked hard out of pure evil.

To make it perfect, Black dropped by to gather the strike committee. It was time to act again, since Mr Dumbledore seemed less than willing to listen to the strikers. To be honest, the only thing Severus felt pleasure in, except for the cooking, was to crawl into his bed and find it occupied by a warm, sleeping body. Only in those moments he felt satisfied, the moments when he wrapped his arms around Remus and fell asleep, listening to his soft breathing.

 

 

'Severus?'

'Mhm.'

'I know it is early, but would you mind to massage my shoulder? It is cramping up again.' Remus was sitting up in bed, the soft light of the early morning was playing over the walls. The sun made Remus' skin shine with a golden glow as he let his pyjama shirt slide down, baring the elegant arch of his back. Not even the scars or the lost arm could ruin its beauty. Severus admired it, relished the sight, as Remus who turned his head over the shoulder to look encouraging at Severus. 'Please, love?'

There was obviously no way Severus could escape. He needed to go to the market, but a glance at the clock told him that Remus wouldn't believe him if he got up now and left. Remus would know that Severus had been a coward who couldn't even stand and talk to his own lover for a few minutes. 'Alright. I suppose, since I took you in, I'll have to take care of you.'

'That would be nice,' Remus said. 'I really need it, Severus.' His eyes glittered and Severus thought he saw a deep hunger in them, enough to make him feel caught. 'You know how much your care meant to me when I was ill,' Remus continued, his back turned to Severus. 'I don't think I would have lived through it without you.'

Severus glared at the pale, perfect skin in front of him, at the red lines where the scars marred it. Suddenly he felt his heart ache. Remus had trusted him, had he not? He had let Severus support him, even if he never had taken any charity from anyone before. He had let Severus feed him and wash him and... well, other things that Severus had neglected quite a bit. He had moved into Severus' house, in his bed, endangering himself—anyone who wanted to find out could easily could find out that they shared a bed. Severus didn't reply. Sometimes words wouldn't come. Not that he usually had any problems with eloquence, but... telling Remus how he felt, how the whole Michelin-case was nothing but his own doubts and insecurities knotted up in a hopeless mess... that, he couldn't.

'I.. I think I need to go to the market,' Severus tried. There had to be a way to get out of the trap.

'Aha,' Remus said. 'But could you be as nice as to massage my shoulder first. It really hurts.' Remus just tilted his head forward, offering the clean lines of his neck.

Severus groaned and reached for the oil. The sooner he got it done, the better. He didn't speak but poured oil in his hands, warming it before he began spreading it over Remus' body.

'Mmm... that's nice, Remus sighed. 'Relaxing.' He fell silent again, just making small content noises as Severus' hands moved over his back. Severus worked for a while, until the tense muscles were convinced to loosen up. Remus made a deep sigh and Severus couldn't resist the sudden need to press a kiss to the slender neck in front of him.

Remus turned slowly, smiling. He didn't say anything, just dragged Severus into his arm, a bit awkwardly. Severus was almost about to protest when Remus' warm lips closed over his, and he was made to remember why, exactly, it had been such a pleasing prospect to have Remus in his bed. Severus was quite breathless when Remus let go of him.

'You do not doubt my feelings for you?' Remus asked. 'Because you have no reason to.'

Severus just shook his head. Remus was a bit too clever for his own good. And for Severus'.

'That's good. You see, I don't question your feelings for me. I wake up in your arms and you make me happy, Severus. But this brooding... it must stop.'

Severus was about to say something particularly unpleasant, but the look in Remus' eyes made him close his mouth again. It was the look Remus had when he had had enough, and Severus had no intentions of angering Remus. The Remus-who-had-had-enough was not to be trifled with. So Severus said nothing.

Remus turned a bit and pulled the duvet around them. 'So, I have to guess, I guess, since you won't tell me.' Remus leaned in and kissed Severus softly. 'I suppose it is about the bistro then, and M. André? That you wanted to have the position of one of the finest chefs on the British Isles? And as long as you are here, you will not get any appreciation for your talent?'

Severus narrowed his eyes. Remus really had watched him, had seen his weakness, his need for recognition. 'And now you're happy you have figured that out? What are you going to do about it? Tell all your friends what a failure I am?' Severus' voice was angry. It was easier to be angry than to admit that it was exactly how it was. Remus could be angry if he liked, but Severus had the right to be stubborn in his own house!

'No, of course not. Severus, really...' Remus shook his head. 'Have you ever considered what you told me in the beginning, before we became lovers? That even the most simple course could be turned into art, the way a potato was prepared could elevate it from a mere root to a small piece of eatable art? I think you should regard yourself a pioneer. How is it that no one thinks a poor man has less need for beauty or exquisite tastes or soft fabric? You still that hunger, love. You give people who could never afford even a piece of bread at the 'O a taste of paradise for a few moments, when they come here to eat. That will never make you a failure in my eyes, nor in anyone else's who visit the bistro.'

Severus hung his head. Remus was right. He did for the first time in his life do something for others, and it felt good and bad at the same time. Maybe it was just time to let go of the dreams and try to live in the real life, the one with faulty machines and poverty and people who died because of the pollution. Many had little left to sweeten their lives and if Severus' cooking could help, just a tiny bit... 'Well,' he said. 'Most of the guests at the 'O are spoiled brats, anyway... they don't deserve me.' He huffed, arrogantly. It wasn't their recognition he needed, but the one from his peers, chefs like M. Escoffier, whose name usually was breathed in awe, more than spoken out loud; or the young M. Fernand Point, already praised and admired, even if he was no more than a mere boy. Severus had wanted that, only now he had to see his ambitions fade and die. However, he decided, he would watch their death standing proud, even through the burial.

 

He let Remus hold him, sighing deeply. He didn't like to admit that Remus was right and he was wrong. 'I... I suppose you are right. I do... like the patrons, most of them, at least.' Not like at the 'O, where most of the guests were arrogant rich bastards, convinced of their own superiority. 'It is challenging to cook out of almost nothing, that much is true.' Severus considered why he actually hadn't seen it that way. It was indeed a challenge to create proper (by his standards) food the workers could afford. Did it really matter what people thought of him when his reward was to see some of the men and women return to better health, and their children rosy-cheeked instead of pallid and weak from malnutrition? Also, Spinner's Bistro was _his_ , and the only thing that could put him out of work was if he failed to do what he did best: cook. And in that department, no one was even close to his level of mastery, that he knew. No matter who acknowledged it, he was a master of his trade.

Severus surrendered to the inevitable. 'You are right,' he admitted once more, reluctantly. 'I don't think I'd like to let go of what we have, none of it.' Severus stroked Remus' cheek softly. 'Not you, not the bistro... not our life.' He fell silent, and in the silence he sat for a while in Remus' embrace, just letting his lover's warmth and tenderness loosen the emotional knot he had carried with him for so many weeks.

 

 

'Post's here.' Severus fetched the small pile of letters and sat down at the breakfast table, flipping through the mail. 'Here's one for you,' he said distractedly and handed a fat package to Remus. 'Air mail and all?' Severus looked once more at the manila envelope. 'Who do you know in France?' he asked before he kissed his lover, not that Severus was especially interested in Remus' mail; his thoughts still revolved around the absolutely fantastic sex they had had that night—every night, in fact, and quite a few times at day, since Remus had managed to drag Severus out of his state of discontent.

'No one, or that's what I thought. Now I seem to know at least one.' Remus kissed Severus back, then put the brown envelope in his lap, so he could hold it between his knees while he opened it. He pulled a cream-coloured letter out.

' _Dear Monsieur Lupin_ ,' Remus read aloud. ' _As a small token of my appreciation of you and your colleague's_... that must be you?' Remus smiled at his lover. 'At least we're not that obvious. I wonder how many has actually figured out I live with you.'

Severus sent Remus a dark scowl. 'Are you reading or are we discussing our indiscretion?'

Remus smiled, shook his head and continued, '... _of your colleague's contribution to La Nouvelle Cuisine, I hereby send you the new edition of Le Guide Michelin, a bit later this year, since my recommendations from your delightful country had to be edited before the book could go into print. I am, by the way, certain page 394 will be especially interesting to you. Kind regards, André Michelin_.' He raised an eyebrow, and exact copy of Severus' expression.

'He sent us _Le Guide_?' Severus was eager to see it. He would personally travel to France and dig the man's heart out with a dull spoon if he had as much as mentioned the street Chez Hogwarts resided on. Let me see!' He reached for the envelope, but Remus swatted his hand away.

'Ah-ah, Severus! Michelin sent it to me!' Lupin grinned, something that owed him a grumpy look from Severus. He pulled the small blue book up and kept it outside Severus' reach.

'Lupin!' Severus was half way out the chair. 'You don't take this seriously!'

'Oh, I take it very seriously. Now sit down, love. I am not going to give it to you before I have looked into it myself. My book, remember?' Remus smiled and opened the leather-clad guidebook. He read a few seconds, and Severus tried to quench the urge to rip the book out of Remus' hand.

'Then get on with it, man! Page 394!'

'Oh,' Remus repeated as he looked at the page. Oh...'

Severus' eyes narrowed. It had to be bad. Maybe Chez 'O had been praised... or someone had added a snide comment about him somewhere. This was just what he had feared. Maybe even worse.

'Listen! Oh, Severus!' Remus hesitated, then went on. ' _If one is interested in looking into England's most developed industrial city, Manchester does not only offer the most advanced industry, but also advanced cooking. In a small bistro in the working class quarter Ancoats, with its canals and looming chimneys, the famous chef Severus Snape and his one-armed assistant M. Remus Lupin have created a small oasis for the cotton mill workers of the area. The courses are few and simple; the decor poor, but very clean and cosy. The simplicity, however, adds to the fact that no other chef in England has dared do what M. Snape is doing: serving La Haute Cuisine in a simplified form for the common man. M. Snape reinvents the rural cuisine: courses based on seasonal availability; one may even say M. Snape has created his own_ Nouvelle Cuisine _. The food is perfect, the service kind, and it is a nice opportunity to meet the men and women who make Manchester's glory shine, no matter how dark its sky may be. The Spinner's Bistro is worth a detour_.' Remus put the book down at the table again, pushing his plate with half-eaten eggs away. 'But this is good, is it not?'

Severus was stunned. He just sat there, gaping like an idiot. 'Yes... it is... good.' He blinked. He had an almost irrepressible urge to pinch himself in the arm. He was in Michelin! He was goddamn bloody mentioned... no, recommended, even, in the sodding bible of chefs and gourmets all over the world! This was better than an Order of the British Empire! Much better! 'I think we might need to have a feast tonight.' Severus felt utterly flabbergasted. He couldn't think longer than that; a feast was needed. Being mentioned as worth a detour in a guidebook where only the best had a place... it was... incredible! His tiny, poor, homemade bistro was bloody mentioned among the best! Severus coughed slightly and managed to collect himself. 'Is Chez 'O mentioned?' he managed, croaking.

Remus flipped through the pages, then back to the index.' Not a word,' he said. 'You won, Severus, you won!' Remus' wonderful smile flashed, and made Remus look like a happy little boy. Severus forgot about Guide Michelin for a moment since Remus' pleasure and happiness made his stomach aflutter with butterflies. Then he was pulled up from his chair, surprisingly, as Remus whirled him over the floor in a reckless dance that ended up with Severus pressed against the wall and Remus kissing him with a wild determination. He returned the kiss, letting it deepen, abandoning himself to Remus, until they were both breathless and Severus in a mood that didn't exactly make him want to go to the market.

'I am not sure what I won, but if this is the prize, I am not protesting,' he laughed and let his fingers run through Remus' hair. 'But it seemed as you made an impression as well, so you may have a reward too.' Severus' eyes shone, and he leaned in to kiss Remus back, just as enthusiastically.

'You know Dumbledore will see it like that, as if you have triumphed,' Remus said when they stopped the exchange of kisses. 'I am not even sure Sirius is going to take this lying down. They are going to have a fit. If nothing else, this feels like a nice revenge for Dumbledore's lack of reaction to the strike.' Remus made a grimace. 'I doubt we've heard the last from him yet.'

Severus was inclined to agree. But for now they would celebrate, both of them. 'We won't think of that now,' he said. 'Actually there are a few things I would really not think of at the moment, since I have to leave now,' he murmured and cupped Remus' arse in his hands, but someone has made it hard for me not to.' Severus nuzzled Remus' neck. 'I have to go, love, but later we'll have a private celebration, if you don't mind? After celebrating with... our friends.' It was odd to be able to say the word, but Severus realised that was how it was. He had friends now, people who cared about him... well, probably they cared mostly about Remus, but nevertheless. It felt odd and strangely satisfying, as if it was as important that Severus was now a Michelin chef and his primitive bistro an acclaimed restaurant.

'Go,' Remus growled. 'Or I'll have to ravish you all morning and hence make you serve bread with margarine and jam for the guests because that'll be all we have to cook from.'

'Margarine,' Severus huffed. 'That'll be the day! And by the way, you better go ask Arthur and Molly to come over later, and bring their horrible brood with them. You can ravish me all you like, later.'

'It'll be my pleasure. And yours too. Now, out! Out, out, out—or I'll make you regret it!' Remus pointed at the door. 'And go tell Kingsley about our party while you're at it.'

'I doubt you are going to make me regret anything, if you are threatening to pull my clothes off and do unspeakable things to me in the bedroom. I'll hold you to your promises later,' Severus purred, before he fled. A minute more, and they'd have been in bed. His self-restraint wasn't unlimited.

 

 

Arthur put down a pint in front of Severus. He felt slightly drunk already, and was relieved most of the patrons had already left, except for the ones who were invited to stay for the small celebration. 'So now you are going to make our bistro one of 'em posh up-scale places?' Arthur sat down next to Severus, pulling out one of the upholstered chairs that Molly had made. 'We're not going to fit in here anymore, I think.'

Severus raised a black eyebrow. It hovered for a second, showing his amazement clearly. 'And why in heaven's name would I want to do that?' He hadn't realised until now that he actually didn't want to change as much as a fork. He liked his bistro as it was, and if the guests didn't, it was their problem, wasn't it?

Arthur looked surprised. 'I didn't think you'd want to cook for... somebody... like us. With you in that little book there...' Arthur poked at the leather-clad Guide with his index finger. 'It is not for us... now better people will come here, and you'll be even more famous.' Arthur had a problem focussing.

'Arthur Weasley!' Molly's voice cut through the air. 'Are you drunk? Stop pestering Severus, he has already told you twice that he doesn't want to sell the bistro, and that he is going to make dinner tomorrow as usual and that he has no intentions of sacking Ginny, since she has just been hired.' She leaned over her husband and gave him a peck on the balding head. 'I am certain Severus is not going to make this any posher than it already is, isn't that right, Severus?'

Severus just nodded. 'I think I like it as it is, yes. The patrons haven't been complaining, and if they were, why would I care?'

'That's the attitude. I think we're all grateful that you stay in the kitchen while Ginny and I manage the restaurant,' Remus laughed. 'We all need to do what we do best, and you are less than sociable, my lov-' Remus put a hand over his mouth. 'Oh, Severus. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.' Remus' eyes were wide and scared.

Before Severus managed to find out whether he was going to be angry or afraid that Remus had outed them so blatantly, Molly put a hand over his. 'Don't worry, Severus. It isn't as if we don't know. We have eyes, you see.'

Oh. So half of Ancoats knew about... 'You... know?' Severus looked from Molly to Arthur and the rest of the Weasleys who didn't seem to care either. His eyes met Remus' and there was a deep relief in them. Remus hadn't been quite as secretive about his attraction to men as Severus had; there had been a lot of rumours when Remus had been Black's lover. Only Severus had never even hinted that Remus should be anything else than his employee and live-in friend. Severus took Remus' hand under the table, as if to tell him not to worry. No one had evidence that they were sharing a bed. They'd manage to hide it, even if they had to have separate bedrooms for a while, just in case.

'The way you look at each other?' Molly laughed. 'It reminds me of how my Arthur and I behaved when we fell in love. Yes, Severus, we know. Not that we understand the... why, it isn't really... with a man... But... love is love. Remus looks so happy, so why would we question it? Maybe it is that Obscenity Law which is wrong and not how you feel.'

It wasn't so much the questioning Severus feared. It was the arrest and the prison and the sodding unfairness of not being allowed to love someone openly because of something so trivial as the matter of being of the same sex. 'And... Kingsley,' he managed, hoarsely. 'What about Kingsley? Does he know too? He's a police constable.' Severus looked at Kingsley who sat in deep conversation with Charlie Weasley.

'I don't think you need to worry about him,' Arthur said, and hiccuped. 'He's been seen in the company of a certain Sirius Black quite a lot, lately.'

The sound of the front door opening and voices in the hall dragged Severus' attention away from the conversation. It wasn't as if he in any way was interested in who Black had chosen as his lover, as long as he kept his greedy hands off Remus Lupin, anyway. Severus looked at Remus, inquisitive. 'We didn't ask others than present company to come, did we?'

'No,' Remus said and let go of Severus' hand. 'It sounds like Sirius, to be honest, and I didn't... I didn't think you'd like me to invite him.'

'Damned right you were. Speaking of the sun,' Severus said as the door to the bistro opened and Black strode in, followed by the elusive Mr Dumbledore. 'and it begins to rain.' He stood. 'What do you want?' he sneered at Albus Dumbledore. 'Come to pay Remus the compensation you owe him?' Severus crossed his arms over his chest. 'Either pay up, or get out of my house. That goes for you too, Black. Truce is over.'

'Sirius didn't want to go, my dear boy,' Mr Dumbledore said. 'I had to convince him it would be for his own good. I had the notion he would be the best to make you to agree to my suggestion.' Mr Dumbledore's white beard made him look like a happy Father Christmas. How looks could be deceiving, Severus thought, and said nothing.

'Perhaps you would like to discuss things... in private?' Mr Dumbledore suggested. 'After all the riff-' Dumbledore cut himself off, 'your er- friends don't have to know everything, do they?'

'Perhaps I don't have anything to discuss with you—unless of course you have brought Remus' compensation.' Severus' eyes shot lightnings. How dare the old man walk in here as if he owned the place? Severus continued to glare angrily at Albus Dumbledore.

'That is sweet, so protective of your lover,' Dumbledore said loudly, making the assembly fall utterly silent. 'Oh, I am so sorry, they didn't know? I thought you shared everything with them, _dearest_ Severus.' Dumbledore twinkled and pulled his gloves off. 'And I see Constable Shacklebolt is here. You are of course willing to forget my little blunder, are you not, Constable? We wouldn't prevent Mr Snape and Mr Lupin from... well...' Dumbledore waved a hand. 'Whatever they are doing.'

Ginny Weasley stood as well, with a decidedly angry expression on her face. She stepped up to Remus. 'Mr Lupin rents a room here, as well as being employed by Mr Snape, that is how it is.'

'Is it really? How interesting.' Dumbledore looked at Ginny with contempt. 'You are not working at my factory, are you young lady? So I might have the pleasure of terminating our agreement.'

'Luckily, no. I am working here—with my fiancé and Mr Snape.' Ginny put a hand on Remus' shoulder. 'And I would appreciate it if you didn't accuse my Remus without having the shadow of a proof. Mr Lupin and I have been engaged for a year.' Ginny turned to her father. 'Tell him, father!'

'What? Yes. Yes, of course.' Arthur seemed to gather a bit of backbone. 'I think Mr Dumbledore might have misunderstood something. Mr Lupin works here, as well as being Mr Snape's tenant. And we are to have a celebration next spring. Er- Ginny and Remus are, that is.'

A few voices, among them Shacklebolt's deep bass, agreed loudly, confirming Remus' fictional connection with Ginny Weasley.

Severus felt oddly calm and protected. He had friends, friends who stood up to people who tried to wrong him, or wrong his lover. How things had changed since he had left Chez 'O that cold day in January. He raised his head proudly. 'You heard my friends. Either state why you are here, or sod off.'

Dumbledore didn't let Severus' upper hand affect him. 'I came to suggest something to you, as your friend. A rather lucrative offer, I should say.'

Severus coughed loudly, interrupting Dumbledore's speech. 'Yes, I remember clearly the friendly and open relationship between us. How was it again? You used me, made Pettigrew try to slander me, then I was fired? So I am of course willing to listen to your suggestion with an open mind, that much is clear.'

'Yes, that was a bit of a misunderstanding, my dearest Severus.' Mr Dumbledore smiled happily. 'Actually, I came here because your altruistic social experiment intrigues me, and I have decided I'd do you a favour to buy it from you, house and restaurant and all. Then you can come back and work at Chez 'O where you belong. With a decent pay rise, of course.'

'That is _so_ generous of you,' Severus purred. 'I cannot possibly express my gratitude. Of course I cannot in any way accept your grand offer. My pride bids me refuse it and your kindness simply slays me.' Severus smiled, and the smile was not a pleasant one. 'Or could this simply have something to do with the fact that you think I haven't seen this year's Guide Michelin?' Severus looked around him. 'Because restaurants which are mentioned with more than three lines in the Guide are so rare. You have decided to start a collection, perhaps?' Severus' eyes sparkled. 'Oh, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, now I remember: Chez 'O wasn't mentioned at all, was it? Actually, Mr Dumbledore,' Severus said, as he walked over to the door and opened it. 'I think we have made all the business we are ever going to make, until you have paid Remus, of course. When that is done, so are we.'

The amiable expression didn't leave Dumbledore's face, but the eyes didn't twinkle anymore. 'I will make sure you are going to regret this, Snape. Deeply.' The old man bowed to Ginny Weasley. 'My admiration for your... misplaced loyalty, Miss. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a society event to attend, at the Lord Mayor's house.' Dumbledore waved at Sirius Black. 'Come on, Sirius, let's leave those... people to themselves.'

'No,' Sirius said. 'I don't think so.'

'You don't think so? You don't know what you are saying, my dearest boy.' Dumbledore stepped outside. 'I'd really advice against socialising with Snape and his likes. But of course that is entirely up to you.'

'That's right,' Sirius said and turned his back to his godfather. 'Can an honest man get a pint of decent ale here? Remus?'

Severus sent Sirius a pointed look, but didn't say anything. He had clearly learned a bit of patience lately.

'Help yourself.' Remus smiled widely at his friend, but put his arm around Severus' shoulder. 'I am.'

'I can see that,' Sirius said, glaring at Severus. 'But I suppose he takes good care of you.'

'Count on it,' Remus said, and turned a little to sit closer to Severus. The way he looked at him made Severus melt. There was so much emotion in his eyes that Severus needed to hold himself back not to lean forward and kiss his lover deeply.

'Sirius was rather jealous for a while,' Remus whispered. 'I think he still is, at least a little. I let him go, and for a while it seemed as if he didn't really understand it.'

'You mean you were the first to refuse talented, beautiful, irresistible Sirius Black? Is that it?' Severus snorted. 'He was always an arrogant prick, if you ask me.'

'He's not used to rejection, no. And he might be a bit... over-confident when it comes to what his looks can get him.'

Severus' eyes followed Black as he walked to the back of the restaurant where Kingsley's eyes followed Sirius Black hungrily. 'But it seems as if he has found a new victim. I don't think I have seen poor Shacklebolt so excited since he made that arrest of the gang that had mugged more than twenty people down at Canal Street.' Severus smiled. 'Actually, I thought Kingsley was married to his job, but as it looks now, his work seems to have found serious competition.'

'I'm glad. I don't want to see Sirius unhappy, even if you don't care. And he is actually a good man.'

'I don't care. But you like the stupid git, so I will try to accept his presence, for you. If he behaves.' Severus put a hand on Remus' thigh underneath the table. It felt good to be able to do it, even in secret, knowing he wouldn't be judged if anyone saw it. Remus' warmth almost encased his fingers, and he caressed the lean leg slightly.

'He better,' Remus said. 'He can't run home to Dumbledore any more.' Remus hesitated. 'You could have taken his offer, you know. You could have had everything back, like you wanted to.'

'I could. Only I'd have lost my independence, my self-respect. Maybe I'd have lost you, and the people who care about us.' Severus sent Remus a solemn look. 'It wouldn't have been worth the money. I'd have been his to use as he liked, and I am not... I cannot live like that again, not....' The words _not without you_ hung unsaid in the air between them.

'I see,' Remus said, softly. 'I'm very pleased.'

'Oi! Snape!' Black waved at Severus. 'Enough with the romance, I need a word.'

'What,' Severus sneered, 'you want me to cut you one from the newspaper? You need a noun or an adjective?' Severus smirked at Remus. 'I'll give him a verb and a preposition,' he grinned and lowered his voice to whisper in Remus' ear. 'Bugger. Off.'

'Play nice!' Remus chuckled. 'He tries. At least he tries. Although I hadn't counted on him to leave Dumbledore. That was quite a surprise.'

Severus rolled his eyes. 'It was a surprise he remembers I have a name. That might indicate a minute improvement.' He patted Remus on the shoulder and went over to Sirius who was helping himself to another pint.

 

 

'I have a plan.' Sirius flipped the long black hair over his shoulder and put a hand on his hip. 'Don't look so surprised. It has happened before.'

'Yes, and I already know what it is about. You want the workers to strike because it worked so well last time?' Severus voice contained disdain so thick one could have painted the walls with it.

'No. We're going to break into Albus' house. That's my plan.' Sirius raised his glass. 'We're going to get Remus his money, because we can go on strike from now on till the end of time and the old man is still not going to pay. Not the way he's greasing the Lord Mayor. I don't know if he really pays him, but the Mayor is Albus' new best friend, and no one is going to do anything about Remus' compensation. Even the Union is powerless, unless we dare take a month-long strike. So, instead, we break in.'

'Er- you are aware you actually don't need to break in. You live there. That would probably make you in possession of a key, although you may correct me if I'm wrong.' Severus pulled his black shirt closer around him, as if he could protect himself against Black's idiocy. Maybe it was contagious? However, Severus didn't like the news about the Mayor, not at all. It seemed as if Albus Dumbledore indeed played tough, and Severus smiled slightly, remembering Remus' advice that he ought to play nicely. Not anymore, it seemed. Not if Sirius was going to join the game.

'Stop being stupid, Snape. We're breaking in, not because we're going to kick down the door, but because we're going to find the books, Albus is hiding, so we can pressure him to give Remus what he owes him. As it is, we need something on him, or he'll not stop until he has made us both pay for our... what he sees as obstinacy, and sent Remus to the poorhouse.' Sirius glanced at the constable who was sitting with Arthur and Remus, caught up in a heated discussion. 'We can do it tonight. Uncle Albus is not coming home before late and no one will notice if we slip out for a moment.'

'Have you lost your mind?' Severus hissed. 'What if we're discovered with our hands in places they shouldn't be? And I shouldn't be in Dumbledore's house at all!'

'That's the beauty of it, Snape. If I invite you, you are not breaking and entering, are you?' Sirius smiled, flashing perfect, white teeth.

For a moment, Severus wondered why the hell Remus Lupin had exchanged this wealthy, gorgeous-looking man with the lush jet-black hair and shining blue eyes for a snarky, ugly chef and a run-down house in Spinner's End. Then he shook his head. 'I don't think so, Black. It is pure idiocy, and recklessness to boot.'

'But Remus-'

'Don't drag Remus into this. Either we do it to get Dumbledore, or we don't do it. We need to find enough on him so we can make him back down and pay up.' Severus crossed his arms. 'Agreed?'

'Agreed.' Sirius curled his lips in something resembling a smile. 'Now? While the others are occupied?'

'Yes. Get your coat and let's go.'

 

 

 

**Chapter 10: Chambers and Secrets**

 

The night was hot and the air heavy with the stale stench from the canals. The water smelled strongly of dead fish. Severus and Black walked quickly along the water, down the empty streets. It was not entirely dark, since the summer night was light and the sun was hovering just under the horizon. The mills' chimneys pointed like giant fingers at the sky; dark shadows hovering over the city. A fox cried out; a sharp barking sound, as they passed it on its way out to hunt. They only saw a grey shadow as it ran down a ditch and disappeared. Somewhere down another street the clatter of hoofs and the hollow sound of iron-bound wheels broke the silence as a waggon drove along the infinite rows of terraced houses.

They walked in silence for a while.

'Do you love him?' Black asked suddenly. There were remains of a recently disappeared jealousy in his eyes. Even in the dark Severus could see it.

'Not really your business, is it?' Severus had no intentions of discussing his love-life with Sirius Black.

'If you hurt him, I'll make you wish you'd never been born!'

'As it is, I just wish _you_ had never been born. A cold comfort there were only you and your brother in the litter.'

'Shut your mouth, _Snivellus_ , your mother was so busy getting rid of you she'd rather drop dead than see you grow up.'

'It really bothers you I have Remus in my bed, doesn't it?' Severus ignored the comment and his eyes glittered in triumph. 'That he prefers me to you. That there is someone you can't have, just because you are handsome and rich. Eats your heart out, hm? Have you considered it might be your personality? I might not be the only one who can't tolerate you for a longer period of time.'

'I meant it, Snape. If you hurt him...'

'But I don't.'

'You _do_ love him. Snivellus is in lurve!'

'Sod off, Black. Or ask the one who sold you your personality to give you a refund. I think it is broken.'

'You are such an arsehole, Snape, I wonder how Remus can stand you!'

'Oh, we don't stand that much. I'm good in bed.'

'Right. Idiot. You were a virgin when Remus took pity in you, I'll wager. Who'd touch someone like you? Asexual, that's what you are.'

'And what are you, Black? Twelve? I didn't know boys your age knew words like that. And as for who would touch me, it seems as if Remus is quite fond of it these days.'

'I know a lot of words I'd like to demonstrate, if you'd just shut your ugly mouth.'

'Somebody taught you to count to ten, did they, and you are eager to show off? I noticed you had problems putting two and two together, and actually get four. A bit like in the books Pettigrew and Dumbledore forged.'

Sirius threw his hands in the air and said nothing.

Severus just smirked and enjoyed his victory. It was a rare occasion when Black didn't get the last word.

 

 

The house lay dark and forbidding in front of them. A small square of light hovered some floors up, casting a pale light into the summer night. The mill was silent, empty; sleeping. They walked up the garden path to the front door, the gravel whispering crisply under their boot-clad feet. Sirius dragged out a heavy key and unlocked the door.

'So you do have a key,' Severus teased. 'The old fart does trust you.'

'I'm to inherit the piece of dung,' Sirius replied. 'I can't steal from myself, can I?'

'Who's on the second floor?' Severus asked, his voice low. 'Is Potter home?'

'He might be. But at this hour he'll be on his way to bed. He won't come down. He doesn't like what Albus is doing either, so it isn't much of a risk if he does; Remus is his friend too.'

'Where do we start? Any clever ideas in that empty head of yours, Black?'

'Let's go back to the cease-fire. Otherwise Albus is home and we'll be in trouble before we've even opened the front door. We can fight later, it'd be my pleasure.'

Severus sighed. Black had a point. 'Then on with it, man.' Severus watched as Black pushed the heavy door open. They stepped inside, and Black waved his hand at the grand stairway that swirled up to disappear in the darkness of the upper floors.

'I've looked at the attic and at the second floor already. He never goes there, so I doubt I have overlooked them. He hasn't hidden them there, I'm sure.' Sirius scratched his cheek. 'Maybe the library, or the basement?'

'Basement first. At least we can explain my presence if we're in the library. A cookbook or something like that. It might be a pathetic excuse, but...'

'True. If he finds us in the dungeons, he'll definitely suspect we're up to no good.' Sirius smirked. 'Seen from my Uncle's side of things, he might have a point.'

Black led them down the stairs. Dumbledore had had electricity installed, so the light on the stairs was clear, and they didn't have to carry candles until they began exploring the many smaller rooms. They went from one pitch-black chamber to the next, some of them looked as if they hadn't been touched in ages. The air was cold and musty, and they found nothing but spiders and cast-offs. A few old boxes held mildew-covered documents, but nothing of interest.

They moved on to another dark room, filled with old toys, maybe from Dumbledore's childhood. Severus almost tripped over a worm-eaten wooden rocking horse. It moved slightly; its dark eyes shining in the dim light, making it alive for a few seconds before it returned to its former state of being a forgotten toy. A group of china dolls stared at them from atop a bookcase; dusty and moth-eaten. One doll seemed to reach for them as it fell over when they went through the boxes stored underneath the dolls; its fat porcelain arms clattering against the wood. The plethora of abandoned belongings was amazing. The yoke of the obscenely rich... Severus huffed and brushed a spider off his sleeve. Even the spiders were bigger and fatter here. It scrabbled black and broken-legged over the dirty floor to find a hiding place behind a stack of old newspapers.

'Does anyone ever clean down here,' Severus growled. 'It is positively disgusting.'

Sirius' expensive jacket was grey from dust. 'I doubt it. I can't remember when I was here last time, and the servants definitely don't go come down, not unless they are fetching coal or things like that.' His lip curled in disgust. 'Maybe I should send someone to do something. Throw things out. Make an archaeological dig. Who knows, maybe the Holy Grail is buried somewhere in the dung.'

'Yeah, yeah. Leave the household chores for now, and let's search the next chamber of secrets, will you?' Severus was getting increasingly anxious. 'Or we can just wait until Dumbledore comes home and go announce we're looking for his second set of books, and would he, please, give them to us.'

'Shut up, Snape.' Sirius took his candle and went for the next just as smelly and dusty room, although slightly bigger and surprisingly empty, apart from a few threadbare carpets spread over the broken tiles. Severus followed him, holding the candle up to be able to see what was in the room. Sirius strode over the carpet but stopped as he stepped on a loose tile. 'Over here, Snape,' he called and Severus stepped over the mushy carpets to hold the candle for Black.

Severus watched as Black pulled back the carpet and fumbled to get the tile up. Severus moved impatiently to the other side and stepped on a tile that suddenly sank a few inches underneath his foot. 'Black... there is something here. I think we might have found something, unless it is rats that have undermined the floor.'

'I got it!' Sirius pulled up the tile and fumbled in the blind darkness in the hole he had found. 'There's a bag down here, or some package.' He leaned down and put half his arm in under the tiles, pulling out a square box, wrapped in hessian. 'Oh,' Sirius grinned, 'I think we have a winner.'

The both knelt and unwrapped the box. It wasn't locked, as if it was being used on a frequent basis and no one had cared. Sirius opened the lid. A few large, brown journals was revealed, together with several small bags containing golden coins. Severus pulled out the money bags, reached out and opened the book on top. Row after row of neatly written figures filled the pages.

'We have a winner, yes.' Severus smirked. 'You think Kingsley is going to give in to you when you present this to him?' he said, rather maliciously. 'I think several constables are going to writhe in pleasure when they see this.'

'You never stop, do you, Snape?' Sirius looked into the small bags, and began stuffing them in his pockets. 'Gold,' he explained. 'For Remus, just in case. The police is just going to confiscate them, and we'll probably never see them again.'

'Why would I stop. You are such a nice target.' Severus smirked, but nodded approvingly at Blacks' little theft. The money would probably end up as evidence, and Remus would still be poor. Severus moved a few feet to pull the rugs further over to the side. 'But for now I am more interested in finding out what else is hidden here,' he said and went back to press on the tile that had sunk under his foot. 'I'm sure there is something under here—at least there has been some kind of cavity that collapsed.' Severus looked up. 'Can you get me a knife or something pointy?'

'Apart from your nose and your litany of derogatory comments?' Sirius smiled sarcastically. 'Knife,' he said and handed a folding knife to Severus.

Severus poked around a bit and managed to put the knife underneath a corner so he could remove the tile. There seemed to be mostly dirt and a decidedly bad smell in the hole. 'Hold the candle over here,' Severus demanded, 'it isn't as if I'd like to lose my arm too. No one knows what's down there, and judging from the smell it really is rats.'

'Found your best friends, did you?' Sirius held the light over the hole.

'Hell!' Severus pulled his hand out of the hole as if he had burned it. 'No!' He had to wait a moment before he could continue. He wasn't usually sensitive, but this was disgusting. 'I rather think I found your friends, or at least one of them.' Severus could feel the blood leave his face. He wasn't going to faint, not in front of Sirius Black. 'There's a body in that hole, Black.'

'A... body? You are making fun of me?' Sirius looked at Severus, suspicious.

'Now, are you hard of hearing? There is a body buried underneath the floor, and I guarantee you it hasn't been in there for too long.' Severus wiped his hand on his trousers. There had been flesh on the bones, still, if not much. 'I could feel the... remains of a hand. Damn it, Black, we need to get Shacklebolt over here, and fast.'

'Oh, I don't think so,' a merry voice said. 'I think you both need to stay here. I see you have met my dear sister, and I'm sure she would appreciate the company. She's been a bit lonely, lately.' Albus Dumbledore was standing in the doorway, smiling that annoying smile of his. A gun gleamed silvery in his hand.

'A bit dodgy, isn't it, to keep the family under the floor?' Severus said, slowly getting up from the floor. He kept the folding knife in his left hand, trying to hide it. Now the darkness worked to their advantage, Severus hoped Dumbledore wasn't able to see the small blade. He breathed out slowly, trying to make his brain work. How in the good Lord's name were they going to get out of this alive, unless Severus was willing to attack the old man? Severus didn't want to become a murderer, not even in self-defence, and he wasn't sure how much damage the knife would do. 'I take it you got tired of living with her?' Severus asked, to stall and get time to think and react. He still felt stunned by the shock it had been to find Miss Dumbledore's remains.

'I don't take it lightly when people want to decide how I run my business,' Dumbledore said. 'Ariana was always too soft. Unfortunately she also owned half the mill. Technically she still does, but I don't think she minds anymore, that I run it for her. She wasn't right in the head, you know.'

Dumbledore's eyes glittered. Severus wasn't sure if the twinkle in them was just a twinkle, or raging insanity. He'd probably wager on the last.

'It was the same with you, Severus. Always busy altering things, or stirring things up at my restaurant. You'd have liked Ariana. She was the interfering type too.' Dumbledore stepped into the room. 'And you, my boy... Sirius... I am so disappointed in you. When we have rid ourselves of Mr Snape... then you'll behave and do what I tell you, isn't that so? Snape is... expendable.'

'Actually,' Sirius said defiantly. 'I think you are even more stark raving mad than my poor aunt. What makes you think I'll agree to let you... whatever it is you want with Snape?'

Severus groaned. Did Black really need to have a bout of flashy bravery right that instant? Goading Dumbledore into something that might include the use of a gun was not going to help them!

'You are my heir, are you not?' Dumbledore said, this time his voice was colder, sharp. 'If you would like to continue to be, I suggest you-' Dumbledore turned away for a moment, there were sounds coming from above.

Sirius acted quickly. He threw a handful of dirt in Dumbledore's face as he turned back, yelling, 'down here, James! Run! Uncle Albus has gone mad!'

Flashy bravery it was, then. Severus threw the knife down and leaped to get a hold of the gun before the old man got the idea to fire it. He grabbed Dumbledore's wrist and twisted it hard. It snapped with a loud crack and Dumbledore let go of the weapon, letting out a pain-filled cry. Severus didn't let go, he had just about had it with Albus Dumbledore, and he didn't trust the man even as far as he could throw him.

Sirius picked up the gun, quickly unloading it. There were sounds of running feet on the stairs, several people were on their way down, it seemed. 'Oi! Here! Sirius shouted. 'And bring some light.' Only one of their candles had survived and lit the room dimly.

James entered, followed by Remus and Kingsley Shacklebolt. 'What is going on here?' James held a petroleum lamp up to cast some light over the scene. 'Sirius?'

Sirius stood. 'Our dear uncle has buried Aunt Ariana under the floor. It seems as if she wasn't really missing. We found her when we were looking after the missing set of books from the mill.' Sirius looked lost for a moment, as if he were overtaken by sadness. 'I suppose you'll have to take Uncle Albus with you, Kingsley?'

'It would be my pleasure.' Kingsley held his hand out to help Severus stand. 'Snape, I think you can let go now. I'll take it from here.' Kingsley reached down to pull Dumbledore up when Severus loosened his grip on Dumbledore's arm. 'And did you happen to find any of the books you were looking for?' Shacklebolt looked hopeful, as if getting Dumbledore for murder and attempted murder wasn't enough.

'I don't know what you are talking about,' Dumbledore said, wincing as he stood. 'I came home and that man,' he pointed at Severus with his good hand, 'he was breaking into my house, Sirius and I tried to stop him. As for my poor sister, I have no idea how she-' Dumbledore closed his eyes, as if he was in pain '-how she...'

'Impressive,' Severus sneered. 'A great actor was lost when you became a business man, Dumbledore. Maybe Black and I may remind you that you actually told us who was buried here, even before anyone had identified the body? There is of course also the tiny addition that you threatened to kill me, and I am beginning to regret I didn't reciprocate.' Severus brushed off his clothes. 'Black, get the box we found, since the constable is so eager to have it.'

Remus drifted closer and put a hand on Severus' shoulder, further down until his fingers were closing hard around Severus' upper arm. 'Are you alright?,' he whispered in Severus' ear. 'I hope so, because when we get home, you and I are going to have a serious talk.' Severus didn't look up. He didn't have to. He knew what he would see if the light hadn't been so dim, and it made him shiver. Remus only sounded that way when he was really angry, as if all his instincts took over: dominance, possessiveness, fury, need. And Severus knew very well how the anger was relieved best. There was a rather large chance he might not be entirely whole when Remus was done with him. 'Maybe I acted a bit rashly,' he tried. 'But Black-'

'Don't put the blame on Sirius,' Remus growled, so deep it was almost inaudible. 'Don't even try.' His fingers dug harder into Severus' arm. 'Arthur heard you. Both of you. You are as bad as Sirius is.'

Kingsley interrupted them. 'I'd appreciate it if you'd both go home, Snape. I'll need you for interrogation later, which will probably be early tomorrow, but I'll take Mr Dumbledore to the station to begin with. If you, Sirius... er- Mr Black, would please take the box, and you, Mr Potter, call the station, so we can get someone up here and dig. I take it there is a telephone in the house?'

James nodded and turned, Kingsley followed closely. Sirius hesitated, watching Kingsley disappear. 'Snape?'

Severus looked up, expecting a snide comment. Sirius dug into his pockets and pulled out the small money bags he had hidden there. 'You better take these. For Remus. I have no doubt Uncle Albus is going to let James and I run the company, so we would pay Remus anyway,' Sirius said. 'Damned old fool... I knew he is ruthless, but I never thought he'd go this far.' Sirius sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. 'Go home, Snape. I'll cover for you as well as possible, not that I wouldn't have loved to let you dangle a bit, but not for something as serious as this.'

Severus understood this was probably the closest he'd ever come to an apology from Sirius Black. He just nodded. Destiny had hit Black harder than Severus' home-made revenge could ever have done, and for one times' sake he managed to keep silent. He just nodded; cleverly, since Remus' fingers still had a firm grip on his arm.

'Home,' Remus said. 'Now.'

 

 

They walked briskly through the streets. Severus could feel Remus' anger like a hum of electricity between them: a tension without outlet. Remus didn't speak, there seemed to be no words that could communicate what his body exuded. Severus didn't want anything more than to take Remus in his arms and tell him... tell him with his body, since he did not have any words either, what Remus meant to him. Severus had a suspicion that Remus' anger had found nourishment in the facts that Severus had acted recklessly and hadn't trusted Remus enough to tell him where Black and he were going.

They turned around the corner and walked down Spinner's End. 'When we get inside,' Remus said, casually. 'I am going to fuck you.' He turned to look at Severus, almost before they had reached the front door. 'Until you scream.'

Finally Remus had found words, and Severus breathed out in relief. He wasn't afraid of Remus, he was certain Remus would never hurt him, but the odd changes were sometimes disconcerting anyway, as if some alien entity lived inside Remus, to only peek out when Remus let go of his tight self-control. Severus' body tightened at the thought of angry golden eyes and flashing, sharp teeth.

'Ah,' Severus said, because a 'no' wouldn't be true. However, he wasn't exactly sure relieving anger in bed was such a good idea, either. Severus still felt rather shocked—the discovery of Dumbledore's crimes and the fight had shaken him, no matter his cool surface.

'I am going to claim you and mark you and make absolutely sure you understand you are mine, and mine only.' Remus' voice was calm and polite, making the contrast between the smooth softness of his words and the crude content so much bigger.

'Alright,' Severus said. He could live with that. He didn't plan to be anybody else's but Remus'. 'So you are going to reward me for acting foolishly, is that it?'

'Be careful now, Severus.' Remus' voice turned into a hoarse growl. 'Careful now, or you might discover I won't be.'

Remus' hand was back on Severus' arm. Severus was certain he would have bruises tomorrow. The strong fingers dug into his flesh and he couldn't stop himself from moaning. Remus' confidence made Severus weak, it allowed him to let go of the control he always needed to have of himself, of his life. 'I don't mind,' he said, softly. 'I'm yours.' Severus wasn't sure whether he regretted giving in so easily, but his body wanted what Remus offered, even if his brain was still protesting.

They had hardly stepped inside before Severus was pushed up against the wall in the hall. 'You are never leaving me like this again, Severus!' Remus crushed his mouth over Severus' and thrust his tongue between Severus' slightly parted lips, kissing him so deeply it was hard to breathe. Remus let go, only to worry Severus' lip between his teeth. 'Never, Severus,' Remus murmured. 'You are mine, and next time you insist on disappearing to get yourself killed, I'll be there with you.'

Remus' hips felt hot and hard against Severus' body, pressing him against the wall. Severus wound his arms around Remus and pulled him even closer. 'I had no intention of dying,' he whispered, feeling a bit guilty.

A dark growl rose in Remus' chest, vibrating against Severus' torso; a small thunderstorm between them. Electricity almost crackled as they touched. Remus had not let go of his tension yet. 'But still you went and put yourself in danger!' Remus' eyes were flaring, the predator raging inside them, dominant and angry.

Severus' breath hitched. He had a slight idea of what would come, and he was uncertain whether he'd like it or not. The thought of Remus pounding into him with all the force he could muster tipped things in favour of 'like'—or even in favour of 'wanted'. Biting his lip slightly, Severus looked up at Remus. 'I'm sor-'

'Go upstairs and undress,' Remus interrupted harshly. 'Lie down on the bed and prepare yourself.' Remus' eyes glittered dangerously. 'Do it, Severus. Or you won't have a whole piece of clothing to wear in five minutes.' Remus closed his fist, as if he tried to quench his need to claim Severus and ravish him into senselessness. 'Please go.' There was a naked desire in the way Remus regarded him; but also pain and a deep vulnerability, Severus hadn't seen before. He looked searchingly at his lover for a moment, as if a second glance would give any other answers than the one he could see in Remus' eyes. Remus growled again, his nails cutting through Severus' shirt. Severus yanked his arm free and fled.

He managed to strip out of most of his clothes before Remus came up the stairs. Severus had lit a few candles, and had placed himself on the bed, with the oil within reach. His heart thudded in his chest, he both wanted Remus to claim him, and to run, to escape. Severus had never wanted anything but freedom, and the possessiveness Remus radiated scared him. He had never thought he'd fall like this, to find himself in a situation where there was nothing but the free fall under his feet. Only that was how it was. He wanted Remus in ways he never had thought he could want another man, he wanted him so intensely that he was willing to give up everything for him. It felt even more scary than when he had looked into the barrel of Dumbledore's gun. That moment he had looked at death, at the end. With Remus, he looked at life, their life together, a beginning of something Severus had never thought he would have. God, it scared him.

He was dragged out of his musings as Remus pushed the door open. He had stripped already, revealing pale-golden skin, gleaming in the candlelight. He was hard, had already been while he was rubbing against Severus in the hall. The tension-level had gone down a notch, but Remus still moved like a large predator, lean muscles rippling under velvet skin.

Severus sank. No matter the scars, Remus was so beautiful! Severus' eyes roamed over the hard, lean body, over the line of dark hairs leading down to the proud cock. The words which usually stuck in his throat flowed easily now. 'You are perfect,' Severus whispered. 'So beautiful.' He held his hand out, almost beckoning Remus to come closer, to allow him do what he wanted with Severus.

The yellow fire in Remus' eyes flared. 'Spread yourself for me,' he demanded. 'I want to see what's mine.'

'Yes,' Severus groaned; the hungry way Remus looked at him was far too arousing. He grabbed the oil and smeared some over his fingers. Looking directly at Remus, he spread his legs wider, rubbing a finger over his opening. Forgotten was all modesty or shyness. 'I'm all yours.' Severus pushed a finger inside himself, moaning softly. 'I wish it was your cock,' he whispered. 'Please, Remus? Come take me.' Severus wanted them to complete their union, wanted Remus to let go of the feelings he kept so tightly reined in. Severus wanted the release so they could both relax and get out of the stasis of anxiety and lust and anger they had suddenly ended up in.

It was clear Remus had kept himself in tight control. He slid into the bed, and the hand trembled as he slid it down Severus' body, over his nipples, to his hard cock. 'Use your hand on me,' Remus demanded. 'Make me ready.'

Severus wrapped his slick hand around Remus' cock and stroked it a few times, sliding his thumb over the silken head, until it was shining with oil. Remus took a deep breath, as if he was on the verge of snapping. 'I would have liked to take you hard from behind,' he growled. 'But I want to look into your eyes when you come.'

Remus moved Severus' legs further apart, kneading his thighs a bit harder than pleasant, and Severus groaned loudly, even though he knew it would inflame Remus even further. Then Remus was pushing inside, and Severus cried out, there was no hesitating, no care, in that first thrust, only need. 'Remus! Oh God, Remus!' Pain raced through Severus' body, and he scrabbled to fist his hands in the duvet, his knuckles white. It felt so good, just to let Remus _take_. Suddenly, freedom didn't matter, not compared to the liberty he found in Remus' embrace and the pleasure Severus knew they would find together.

'Mine,' Remus snarled and began moving: small, fast movements, until Severus had let go of the duvet, and began moving with the thrusts. Remus was hovering over him, and Severus couldn't close his eyes; couldn't stop looking at Remus. His arse felt as if it was going to split, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to let his lover take everything he wanted, no matter if it was Severus' body or his moans or his pain. 'Please... harder...' Severus' voice was ragged and torn, his hands fluttered over Remus' back, the skin slightly sweaty already. Severus raked his nails down along Remus' spine, making Remus take revenge with even deeper thrusts.

Severus lost coherence. It felt too good, too painful. It was too much and too little at the same time. He was hovering, lost in Remus' touches, arching against his lover's body, baring his neck for Remus to take that as well if he wished it so. 'My Remus,' was all he managed. 'Need you,' he repeated over and over as Remus took him.

Remus slowed down for a moment. His breath was heavy and damp against Severus' neck. Remus' tongue flickered over Severus' collarbone, dipped into the small cave in the middle, then back to the pale length of white skin. Then Remus pushed in, as deep as he could go, and at the same time he bit Severus hard, bruising him, bleeding him. 'You. Belong. To. Me!' Remus moaned and emphasized his words with hard, almost brutal thrusts. 'Mine!' he stated once more and came hard, letting out incomprehensible words and groans, alternating with little bites wherever he could reach.

As he rode the last waves of his orgasm, Remus pushed a hand between them, warm and slick, and Severus' arousal spiralled to new heights. With his long legs wrapped tight around Remus' back, his eyes locked with Remus; black eyes with golden, he let go, allowed Remus to take him wherever he wanted, and a flood of pleasure and release welled over him. 'Remus!' All he could do was to cry out his lovers name again and again as he was swept away, the earth shaking and the heaven so close. He clung to Remus, his only anchor in the storm, and ever so slowly, Remus moved, slipped out and turned, pulling Severus close.

The warmth and the calming strokes on his back slowly brought Severus back to reality, letting him land softly. He didn't speak, he had noting to say that he hadn't already told Remus with his body.

Remus spoke first, his hand stilling on Severus' hip. 'The moment I thought I'd lose you...' he said quietly, his voice hollow, almost devoid of emotion. Severus looked up as Remus closed his eyes, his face contracting, as if in pain. 'Severus...'

It was as if all the worry washed back. There was so much hurt in that one word that Severus felt his heart being wrung and ripped into pieces. 'But you didn't,' he said, stroking Remus' cheek. 'You didn't.'

'Promise me never to run off to be killed again,' Remus said. 'Next time I'll be there with you.'

'There won't be a next time. Not for me, and neither will there be for you.' Severus pulled the duvet that had fallen off the bed over them. The night was fleeing, outside a weak light rose on the sky, golden and pink and purple. The morning was on its way, the sky was clearing, for once no dirty-grey clouds hung over Manchester. Severus rose up on his elbow and kissed Remus Lupin softly. 'And you'll promise me never to go near another loom again. It is enough I have to put up with you as you are.' Severus' black eyes were velvet-deep with tenderness.

'Oh, of course,' Remus said. 'If you say so.' He smiled, a relaxed, sated smile, as if all his worries had disappeared. 'If it makes you happy.'

'It does,' Severus said. 'You make me very happy.'

 

 

 

**Chapter 11: Appendix - Recipes**

 

  
**Truffes au Chocolat á la Severus** (Base truffle: Escoffier, appr. 1890, additions by ~~author~~ Severus Snape)  
Chocolate ganache:  
1 part dark chocolate - 75-85%  
1 part cream (1/5th of the cream can be replaced with butter to get a more firm truffle. No margarine, we're not barbarians!)  
(-250 gr chocolate and 225-250ml cream equals appr. 30 truffles.)

Additional:  
1 small red chilli pepper  
Honey  
Caramelised ginger  
Cinnamon  
Brown sugar  
Cocoa

Break the chocolate into small bits. Heat cream until boiling. Pour cream over chocolate and stir with a whisk until smooth. Place the ganache in fridge overnight or until firm enough to form into bite-size balls (no, not that kind of balls! Smaller ones!)

Chili-honey-chocolate truffles:  
Form the truffle, cut it in half, remove a bit of the inner core, replace with a very thin slice of chili and a few drops of honey. Assemble the thing and smoothe the surface. Roll in cocoa powder. These go very well with a full-bodied, spicy coffee; for instance a Costa Rican Tarrazu or Ethiopian Harrar.

Ginger-cinnamon truffles:  
Mix cinnamon and brown sugar and roll the truffles in the mix. Sprinkle with pieces of caramelised ginger. Try these with mango tea, or together with mango sorbet.

The original Escoffier chocolate truffle:  
\- roll truffle in cocoa powder.

None of these truffles are very sweet, more sweetness can be added by choosing a chocolate with a higher content of sugar. The truffles can live about three weeks in a fridge, or for half a year in a freezer.

 

 

**Curry stew for Molly** (by ~~author~~ Severus Snape)  
\- serves four

A pound of sliced sausages (any kind, although bratwurst types are better)  
Three pounds of potatoes (old ones, preferably)  
1-2 medium-sized chopped onions  
A pint of milk (a stock cube and a pint of water can be used instead)  
Margarine or oil  
Madras Curry powder (high quality, 2-3 tbsp or depending on how hot you want it to be)  
Salt  
Pepper

Boil potatoes until done, peel them and cut into smaller pieces. Fry the onions and the curry in margarine/oil until they are golden. Let simmer until the potatoes has cooked out enough to thicken the sauce - approximately 20-30 minutes.

**Cinnamon toast**  
Slices of white bread; day-old bread is better  
Butter  
Cinnamon powder

Turn the bread slices in butter in a hot pan until they are golden-brown and crisp. Sprinkle a little cinnamon powder on the top of each slice.

 

 

**Tournedos Rachel** (Escoffier, appr. 1920, from _Ma Cuisine_ )  
\- serves four  
4 tournedos  
4 slices beef marrow  
Bordelaise sauce  
4 artichoke bottoms  
Asparagus tips

Season and sauté the tournedos and cook rare. Arrange on a serving dish, with two of them served on top of a crouton, which has been cooked in clarified butter. Put a slice of beef marrow on each and cover with sauce. Garnish with braised artichoke bottom topped with asparagus tips.

**Pommes Duchesse**  
-a very easy recipe here: meilleurduchef.com/cgi/mdc/l/fr/recettes/pomme_duch_ill.html

**Bordelaise Sauce**  
40 gr shallots, finely chopped  
8 white peppercorns, crushed  
200 ml claret  
300 ml veal stock  
1 small bouquet garni  
100 gr beef marrow, soaked in iced water  
30 gr butter, chilled and diced

Put the shallot, crushed peppercorns and claret in a saucepan, set over high heat and reduce the wine by one-third. Add the veal stock and bouquet garni and bubble gently for about 20 minutes, or until the sauce will lightly coat the back of a spoon. Pass it through a wire-mesh conical sieve into another saucepan.  
Drain the beef marrow and cut it into small pieces. Place in a small saucepan, cover with a little cold water and salt lightly. Set over medium heat and bring to about 80°C. Immediately turn off the heat, leave the marrow for 30 seconds, then drain it carefully.  
Season the sauce with salt and pepper to taste, whisk in the butter, add the well-drained beef marrow and serve immediately in a sauce boat (a small amount).

 

**Potato-towers for the Strikers** (by ~~author~~ Severus Snape)  
-serves four

Smoked herring or salmon in thin slices, appr. 100-150 gr/person

Pommes Rösti, as thin as possible, 2 iches diameter, 5 pcs/person - easy recipe here: theworldwidegourmet.com/?action=recette_show&id=137&lg=en.  
The Röstis can be made in the oven instead, bake for around 30 min, or until crisp and golden.

Fennel cut in quarters and boiled in salted water until al dente, appr. 5 min.

 

**Cold Dill Sauce** :  
Creme Fraiche (cold)  
Dill (preferably fresh)  
Salt and pepper

Build little towers beginning/ending with a Pomme Rösti. 5 make a nice tower. Place on plate and add the cold sauce (Creme Fraiche, dill and spices) in a nice pattern around it. Garnish with a few fennel boats.

 

**Bacon and Spinach** (medieval recipe, appr. 1300 A.D.)  
Spinach, fresh  
Bacon (preferably as fat as possible) cut in small squares.  
Fry Bacon in a pan, add spinach and cook until spinach is warm, but still a bit crisp. Add salt and black pepper.  
This goes well in a (bagel) sandwich with cream cheese too. Remember, spinach must not be re-heated, but leftovers can be used cold (in a sandwich, for example).

 

**Roman Pie** \- or dinner for Molly Weasley (Mrs Salisbury, from the Wigan Cookbook, 1925)  
½ lb. cold meat  
3 ozs. Macaroni in 1-inch pieces  
½ oz. melted butter  
bread crumbs  
2 ozs grated cheese (Cheddar)  
1 cooked or fried onion  
1 gill stock  
short paste, pepper and salt.

Brush out the mould with the butter and sprinkle with bread crumbs. Line the mould with short crust. Mix all the ingredients well together, put into the mould, cover the top with paste and bake in a moderate oven for an hour. Turn out and serve with sauce.


End file.
